Harry Potter and the Pandora Project
by Judith-C
Summary: FutureFic. 70 years after the Fall of Voldemort the Wizrding World is peaceful - people live in a world free of injustice. But, somewhere, someone is working to destroy what Harry worked so hard for. A secret of great importance is poised to be revealed.
1. Chapter 1

Somewhere in Londonderry, Ireland, autumn of 2070.

The room was poorly lit, though what was visible under the flickering golden lamplight could be distinguished as having a tasteful elegance. Rich wood paneling and darker oiled floor boards both absorbed and reflected the warm glow. A wizard sat silently in a deep walnut-colored leather wingback, a crystal glass of Odgen's Finest clasped in his right hand. A signet ring, with the motif of an old oil lamp, tinkled softly on the crystal as he twirled the glass in his hand. He waited.

Some time later the quiet creak of a floorboard signaled the imminent arrival of the one for whom he waited for. The witch entered the room swiftly, rounding the chair and taking her place opposite her host.

"What news?" he enquired of his guest as she eased herself into the chair.

"My affairs have been finalized, I am ready to initiate the final stage," she answered confidently.

While the wizard gave no indication of either acceptance or denial, he simply re-commenced twirling the crystal glass in quietly troubled contemplation. He paused only to take a quick swallow of the liquid, before holding her gaze. "Explain to me again why it is necessary for us to take this approach. Why are we giving our enemies reason to attack us?" He stared at her expressionless face, her dark brown eyes unfathomable pits.

She smiled wryly, the corners of her mouth rising not in mirth, but with pleasure at the innate intelligence of the plan. "We learned from the past," she stated simply. "A direct approach would be erroneous. Those individuals that were opposed to such an advance previously would not hesitate to foil further attempts of the like. Instead we go to our enemy and reveal a portion of the secret that has been held for centuries. Our enemies will chose to act to remedy what they will perceive as unnatural advantage. With their active opposition comes Our chance to act without consequences," she declared impassionedly, her voice having raised an octave and her eyes shining. "In the end, we will be thanked."

The wizard emptied the last of the liquor from the glass, and placed it gently on the side table. "You know the dangers of being discovered before you are able to complete this mission?" he inquired, not for her safety, but for that of their organization.

She leaned forward. "You mock me?" she questioned, tilting her head slightly. "You must, knowing my current profession."

The wizard shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No, but this is bigger than you or I, - succeed and we change the future – fail and you'll just be another footnote in history," he stressed.

"I will not fail," she spat, her face stormy with righteous anger. "It is time for a change, and nothing will prevent me bringing it forth."

The wizard nodded, his enthusiasm invigorated by her fervor. He held a hand out to her. "Merlin and Circe be with you, and may Our victory be great"

She took his hand in both of hers, kissed the warm metal of the signet ring, and murmured, "We shall let our light shine, and our blood will be vindicated."

* * *

May 2nd, 2073 – 75th Anniversary of the Defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort

Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding World, fought back tiredness as he lounged in the Abraxan-drawn carriage as it began another yearly procession from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. Every year, since the 20th anniversary of Voldemort's downfall, the Ministry of Magic had insisted that the "heroes" be "properly recognized" for their contribution to the cessation of the last vestige of evil in Britain.

Harry would have been more than happy with a quiet drink and a moment of contemplation, rather than the elaborate farce the so-called "memorial" had become over the years. In his opinion nobody belonging to the last two generations had any idea of what it had been like, and his re-telling of the events fell mostly on deaf ears. The youngsters instead preferred the glorified versions of epic proportions, which lent itself more to urban legend than history. For at least the last thirty years the organizers had begged him to omit the story of Severus Snape, arguing that the Death Eater turned spy would have preferred obscurity. Harry would die before he failed to tell of that wizard's integral part in the triumph of good.

He caught a glimpse of the castle as they rounded the corner, remembering the good experiences at Hogwarts, but wanting to forget what had eventually occurred when Tom Riddle ripped away both lives and innocence. Later, in his own ritual, he would enter the Headmaster's Office and again confront the portraitures. Alone, but oddly united, both wizards had engineered Voldemort's demise; Dumbledore with twinkling manipulation, and Snape with sullen dedication. Every year the personification of these great wizards metamorphosed, their traits becoming almost aberrant; Dumbledore's once endearing twinkle grew closer to the glistening eyes of a madman. Harry's lips quirked as he remembered the previous year; Snape had requested his portrait be thrown into the fire after Dumbledore visited his frame, uninvited, to offer him a moldy sherbet-lemon. Snape had retreated to the furthest corner of his frame and snidely replied that he preferred non-existence over the offer of the sweet from a senile old fool.

As he returned from the memory, his glance drifted to the empty seat beside him. His love, Ginny, accompanied him in spirit only, having passed on to the "next great adventure" nearly a year ago. He smoothed the gold of his wedding band, forgetting the now and remembering all the good times they shared. The girl had still been able to do a fine bat-bogey hex – he nearly laughed himself into a grave when, at last year's ceremony, she lost her temper at one of the young upstarts from the Ministry. When he queried her later, she uttered one word contemptuously; "Percy".

Since Voldemort's downfall, the Wizarding World had stayed, on the most part, peaceful. In his early days as an Auror, Harry had been busy corralling the last of the Death Eaters; of those not killed or captured at the Battle of Hogwarts, most were apprehended, put on trial and sent to Azkaban. Some, like the elusive Selwyn, had remained at large for many years, but were eventually captured or turned up dead. The only Death Eater family that remained, somewhat untouched by what happened to their compatriots, were the Malfoy's. Voldemort and Harry did agree on one thing though – Lucius Malfoy had been "slippery" indeed.

After Narcissa had saved Harry's life, the hope of the world, and ultimately preserved the downfall of the Dark Lord, the Wizengamot had been lenient. Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to a meager ten years at the dementor-free Azkaban, Draco Malfoy had served two, and Narcissa merely given probation. The Ministry did seize most of their assets, except their family home - though, considering the size of said property, some couldn't help but wonder that losing everything else wasn't much of an issue for the family.

Draco Malfoy assumed an air of indifference, married Astoria Greengrass – a witch from a neutral Pureblood family – and produced the required heir. Scorpius Hyperion was the sort of eccentric name that only Purebloods could respectfully call their offspring, or know that others would have the good sense not to laugh in their faces. Harry and Ginny had got their Galleons worth of chuckles, or they at least did until their youngest came home at the end of her NEWTS year with the pronouncement that her and Scorpius were "in love".

Cajoling Lily to reconsider proved unwise. She was disdainful of any further attempts to convince her otherwise, and, like her mother, stubbornly insisted that love transcended all things. Her resolve prompted Harry to initiate a friendly chat with his school-day nemesis, Draco. Subsequent conversations confirmed that he was just as dazed – but with some negotiation they reconsidered, suggesting that their children be allowed to marry, quoting certain political advantages. Harry agreed hesitantly, and the pair wed in the following year.

When Lily conceived shortly after, Scorpius proved no match for her obstinate determination to discard his family's naming tradition. Her acerbic tongue ensured that her daughter received the lovely name Seraphina. She relented for one name only; their son was given the family name Abraxas Arcadias.

Albus Severus also married a Slytherin, and he and his wife had three children; the youngest, Harry's second grand-daughter, Peony, and the two boys Sirius John, and Harry James Potter the 2nd. Harry pleaded against the honorific, but Albus' wife waved her hand as if that was enough to dismiss his concerns. Only four years ago, and more than thirty after the first "Harry clone", he had learned to put up and shut up when Harry James Potter the 3rd was born. He just hoped they weren't all in the same room together, and if they were, that neither they nor he got into any trouble; having someone yell "Harry James Potter" in annoyance would just prove confusing. Even having that many generations of the Potter family in one room would be enough to drive him to either distraction or madness.

The Order of the Phoenix had remained after the Fall of Voldemort; though its original purpose died and in its place rose an association of witches and wizards with a charter to always uphold equality. Harry was a life-time member, having contributed much to the new format of the charter. The society became a social club of sorts, running youth programs and offering apprenticeships and recommendations. The active president held a seat on the Wizengamot, and at least half of the executive committee was required to have worked for the Office of Magical Law Enforcement.

Still, blood purity remained an issue fiercely debated. Whilst most Pureblood families were "cured" of their need for vicious retribution on innocent Muggleborns and their families, some still upheld what they termed their "right". Twenty-five years after Voldemort's defeat the Life Association for Magical Purity was created. Under the watchful eye of the Ministry, through both the office of Magical Law Enforcement and the Wizengamot, the society lodged a charter as transparent as that of the Order of the Phoenix. Membership was open to all Purebloods and non-Pureblood families who could prove either Pureblood connections - no further than two generations away - or had more than two magical grandparents. Those within the organization who married a Muggleborn were either demoted or excommunicated. A sense of unease grew in the Wizarding World at the inferred prejudice of the Association.

However, despite the initial concerns, society eventually adjusted their views of it. By 2040, both organizations, having proven their worth as clubs of prestigious honor, were invited to become part of Hogwarts. Each association was to have a student representative council made up of at least two students from every year, and a staff advisor. Over the years, the membership in each organization grew, almost equally drawing students from all four Houses in Hogwarts. Both associations run Summer programs, as well as career mentoring. People began to belong and thus forgot what the beginnings of the two groups had once stood for. Instead, witches and wizards proudly wore badges on their clothing – The Order of the Phoenix bore the motto "Unity for Equality", and the other "Unity for Purity". Some wore both, and, when questioned, responded, that they stood for "Unity", irrespective of how it was obtained.

The carriage came to a halt, and Harry gazed over the crowd of students, professors and aging alumni. He stood and eased out of the carriage as a respectful hush fell over the attendees. He strode to the raised platform, positioned in its usual location just to the side of Dumbledore's tomb, and gazed out at the audience. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were mingled together – House loyalties and prejudices had been a thing of the past for decades now. He smiled knowingly – these children had been living in their gift of peace; nobody had had to live as he had to, juggling the constant threat of death with Quidditch and study.

He took a deep breath and began the story of his life.

* * *

August 27th 2075: Ireland

Mira Aquila Black, age eleven years five months and nine days, stood in front of her half-packed school trunk. With less than five days until she was scheduled to board the Hogwarts Express, she was at her wit's end. Her mother, the lovely raven-haired witch Sabina, had given her daughter a handcrafted leather-bound journal when Mira had been five. A year later Sabina had departed and the journal was the only thing remaining. At random pages throughout, Mira knew that her mother had inscribed words of wisdom; little snippets of motherly love that appeared when Mira needed them the most. What she needed right now was for big, blinking neon letters to appear on the front of the book, stating "here I am!" because she had managed to lose that most precious possession.

She dropped to her bed with her head in her hands, buried her face in her duvet and screamed in frustration. Tears smarting on her cheeks, she pounded the bed with her fists. A few moments later, she sat up, wiping the moisture from her face angrily. _Where had she put it?_ She had searched in all the most obvious places, except the attic… _But it has been days since I've been up there_ she thought. She shrugged, considering the possibility. _I guess it would__n't__ hurt…_

Mira trooped up the stairs and climbed up into the attic by way of the rickety ladder which swung down with the trapdoor. She breathed in the musty and stale air, and started her search near the open box she had discarded nearly a week prior. She peeked at the old photos – most of which she'd seen before – which portrayed myriads of Black family relatives. _Nothing…__G__reat._ She scooted the box to the side and caught sight of a familiar looking leather cover. She breathed a sigh of relief as she snagged it.

As she brought it up to her chest to hug it like a long-lost friend, she noticed that it didn't _feel_ right. She pulled it away from her and examined it. _Way too dusty for starters_she thought, wiping the dust from her hands onto her skirt. She opened it at a random page, and squinted at the spiky and cramped black handwriting. _Not __Mother's__ or pa's _she thought as she traced the rise and fall of letters. She shrugged her shoulders in indifference and closed the unknown diary with a soft rustle, the pages dry with age.

As she reached out to place the old diary where she found it, she finally spotted her own. Instead of discarding the dusty book, she kept it, placing her much newer diary on top on the old. Somehow she knew it was meant for her.


	2. State of Affairs

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…wish I did, an extra million would come in handy from time to time…**

**Oh... Any many apologies to those of you that read the initial post, an italics tag was missed, and what can I say - 2000 words in italics is not fun...**

* * *

Ministry of Magic 

Ministerial Office

October 17th, 2002

Directive #R366b

I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, duly elected Minister of Magic, endorsee of the Wizengamot, do commission the following directive:

That, from the date set above, the Department of Mysteries shall endeavour to investigate, by all available means and with utmost secrecy, all non-magical humans. The investigation should focus on any advancements made by Muggle society, and be carried out with the utmost discretion. The purpose of the investigation is to determine the impact of;

a) Political movements and factions, especially those which could obstruct current Magical-Muggle relations;

b) Economic fluctuations – see Directive G149r in regards to the correlation of Muggle financial markets and currencies with the management of Gringotts' banking empire;

c) Significant societal fluctuations; primarily social and/or cultural movements;

d) Advancement of Muggle 'science' – in particular any further progress and innovation made in their 'Industrial Age', and, lastly;

e) Any other significant development.

* * *

Ministry of Magic 

Department of Mysteries

October 25th, 2002

Internal Memorandum

Attention: Office of the Unspeakables

Priority:Highest

Attachments:Directive #R366b

Immediate action is required. Please assign an operative to act in an investigative function to fulfil the requirements of the Directive. Though the utmost discretion may be used in choosing this individual, please ensure they are knowledgeable of Muggle customs, dress and practices. Operative will be required to assimilate into Muggle society for the duration of the assignment. Monthly reports will be required.

* * *

Ministry of Magic 

Department of Mysteries

Office of Unspeakables

Section K1

October 26th, 2002

Internal Memorandum

Attention:Unspeakable #25749

Priority:Violet

Please report to Section Chief at 1830 today. Bring all case files notes on current projects. Further information shall be disclosed at this time.

* * *

Unspeakable #25749, or the wizard known as Phillip Braithewaite outside of work, was sitting at his desk compiling a report when a vivid purple memo zoomed through his door and came to a rustling halt on top a stack of parchment he had been working on. He brushed it aside, only to find it grew teeth and bit him. Setting aside his work with a huff of frustration, Phillip retrieved the now docile memo parchment. 

_More work…Wonderful – as if __I__ did not currently have enough to do! _He thought as he read the brief summons. He had only an hour to compose everything he **was** already working on, he noticed as he glanced at his watch.

An hour later, once the last of the hurried notes on a dormant case-file were complete, Phillip dropped the final parchment on the pile of other reports. After bundling them up and grabbing his hat and outer robes, he exited his office, closing the door behind him.

He arrived at his superior's office exactly on time (Unlike certain other Ministry workers, as an Unspeakable he was capable of the seemingly impossible). Raising his free arm to knock, a voice rumbled from within.

"Enter," the sonorous voice commanded.

Phillip strode into the office, nodding his head respectfully at the wizard sitting rigidly behind the desk.

"Sir?" he enquired, unsure of exactly why he had been summoned.

"Mr. Braithewaite," his superior stated as if affirming himself of Phillip's presence. "Please - have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?" he queried, the first indication of feeling flashing across his face.

"No, thank you, sir." Phillip declined in a politely clipped tone as he sat.

He watched with nervous anticipation, as his superior reached for a dossier of a, singularly unique colour. Unlike all his other cases, which were usually coded yellow – lowest priority, orange – attention required, or even red – high priority, the dossier was a brilliant blue. He had rarely seen files of either violet – urgent or blue – top secret, in all of his time employed by the Unspeakables. His colleagues spoke of the odd files he had seen with hushed reverence.

The chief opened the thin folder, perusing the contents, before closing it and handing it across the desk to Phillip.

"As of now, you are re-assigned, Mr. Braithewaite." He waited, momentarily, for Phillip to take the proffered dossier.

With his mouth dry and heart racing from the unexpected announcement, Phillip received the top secret file. He stared at the blue folder with barely concealed shock. It was almost unthinkable, to him, that he be entrusted with such an assignment. Understanding now dawned of why he had been required to bring his existing cases. He turned his attention to the wizard across from him. "Fieldwork, sir?" He had an inkling that it was, but sought confirmation nonetheless.

"Yes. The mission is of delicate nature, and you will need to integrate yourself in Muggle culture for an indefinite duration of time. The only contact, you shall be permitted to have with this office, will be your monthly reports. It is thus inadvisable that you remain assigned to your other cases."

Phillip listened, nodding his head randomly to indicate his full attention. It was only when he reconsidered the information, when his brain snagged on a particular turn of phrase.

"Muggles?" he muttered quietly, snapping his head up in consternation. "Culture…?" His question trailed off, as he glanced down at the folder in his hands. Opening it, he skimmed the documents. Moments later he exclaimed, "Muggles!" Incredulous, he glared at his chief. "This Department is sending me to live with…Muggles?"

"Indeed," the older wizard replied.

Phillip closed the folder with shaking hands. "I don't know the first thing about Muggles. My family…"

The older wizard interjected before he could go further. "I don't care to hear your prejudices Braithewaite. The events of five years ago should have taught you that the philosophy of blood purity is a dangerous line to take," he spoke firmly.

"I am no Dark Lord, Kelley, but neither am I like the fool, Dumbledore," he replied indignantly.

"Nonetheless, this is what I require of you." Jeremy Kelley leaned back as he observed one of his best agents. "I would have preferred to send someone with a more…adaptable…background, but the Muggleborns in this department have neither the experience nor my confidence," he concluded.

Phillip snorted huffily. "And yet here I was thinking that perhaps I had botched-up a case and this is my punishment. This..." He held up the folder to punctuate his thoughts, "this, if conceivably possible, is worse than the first case you had me work on." He dropped the dossier to his lap.

Kelley took the snide comments with a grain of salt, before he smirked. "The Lovegood case?"

"Yes…that eccentric family and their peculiar theories," Phillip snapped back, not amused.

"I believe, though, that your thorough investigation did indeed prove the existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkak, and the resulting dissertation that Miss Lovegood produced earned her accolades. Wasn't she, and Rolf Scamander, commissioned, only last year, to seek out the truth behind more of her theories?"

For Phillip, Kelley's reasoning only inflamed him more. "Only one creature out of the one hundred and fifty-three you had me 'investigate'," he snarled. "Months of my time and miles of parchment wasted." He paused to take a breath before beginning another rant. "Now you want me to rip myself from the only life I know and insert myself in a culture I would rather not." He glared at Kelley. "No house-elf, no magic," he muttered disgustedly.

"Either take the assignment or find another job," his superior frostily uttered, having reached the limits of his patience.

Phillip took several deep breaths to calm his thoughts before sighing in resignation. "What sort of auxiliary support can I expect?" he enquired, grudgingly accepting the task.

"As you will not be able to personally make contact with the Ministry, a fellow Unspeakable will be assigned to discretely convey your reports and other concerns," Kelley responded, "I believe you have worked with Unspeakable #13664 previously?"

Phillip remembered the younger agent, Francine Oglyphizon. "Yes, as I recall she is quite competent."

"It is agreed then?" Kelley rose from his seat and offered his hand.

Phillip leaned forward and shook it. "Yes."

* * *

Periodic Report #0025 

Date: 16th December, 2004

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsections (a) (b)

The Muggle Political conglomeration known as the "European Union" has expanded its membership to include the following nations; Cyprus, Czech Republic, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Malta, Poland, Slovakia, and Slovenia. Use of the 'Euro' currency by these countries, has been accepted, and a program of phasing out their individual state coinage initiated.

Yearly Report #02

Muggle technology continues to develop at an unprecedented rate. After only two years living within their society, some items are becoming more prolific. For instance, the use of a portable communication device, known as a 'mobile', or 'satellite' phones, are increasingly popular. Newer models can even transmit pictorial representations and something termed 'video'. Perhaps a corresponding magical device could be researched. The Muggles are also adept at creating small devices which play music or manage their life. I was confused for some time when I over-heard a Muggle man state that he 'had to put a date in the blackberry', though some months later, after a thorough investigation of 'electronics', I found that the reference to fruit was, in fact, one of these devices.

An item of news, which has generated a great deal of interest recently, has been a science the Muggles term as 'quantum mechanics'. Several academic organisations are researching the applications for both Computing (see Article #004 submitted with Report #0008 for definition) and a concept named 'teleportation'.

The primary issue that interests Muggles the most is 'sustainable development'. Though their solutions to quick transport are creative, the by-products have been wreaking havoc on the environment.

* * *

Periodic Report #0042 

Date: 22nd April 2006

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsections (d) (e)

Muggle 'scientists' from Denmark announced recently that they were able to successfully teleport data stored in a laser beam into a cloud of atoms, marking the first instantaneous successful movement of both light and matter.

This is of concern, as it seems Muggles have discovered the secrets of apparition.

* * *

Periodic Report #0061 

Date: 28th October, 2007

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsection (a)

The European Union has admitted a further two countries; Bulgaria and Romania. A major treaty in relation to its charter has been ratified, allowing international legal bearing.

It is interesting to note that some countries outside of the Union do accept and use the Euro as their standard form of currency.

Abroad, the two major countries that Britain has significant political communiqué with, America and Australia are experiencing the lead-up to significant elections. In my opinion both countries will experience a change in leadership.

The current political 'hot topic' is the lingering occupation of Iraq, described by America as their ongoing 'War on Terror' (see Special Report #016).

* * *

Periodic Report #0075 

Date: January 17th 2009

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsection (d)

Attachments: Special Report #018 Robotics

Muggle technology continues to astound me. Robotic applications that a couple of years ago were 'gadgets' are now more common. I visited a contact two days ago that has a robotic carpet sweeper (nearly scared the magic out of me), he informed me that 'everyone has one these days'. More amazingly, he gave me a thorough education of how robotic mechanisms make life easier. From making cars, (scary transport device, and the fact that I now know they aren't even made by humans makes my skin crawl) to assisting in surgical procedures (barbaric; cutting people open to 'fix' things!), and even domestic duties.

Included is a detailed description of current capabilities.

* * *

Periodic Report #0095 

Date: September 9th, 2010

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsection (a) (e)

The European Union has expanded once again to include three more countries; Croatia, Macedonia and Turkey. The Euro is scheduled to be the major currency in all the member states by 2015. Albania and Montenegro have applied and been officially accepted as candidates, pending that they meet the 'Copenhagen Criteria', by making the necessary adjustments to their policies.

On another note, the corporation which creates electronics, communication devices and computing products, Apple Inc, has announced prototypes of 'implantable' (foreign objects that are inserted semi-permanently into your body to 'increase user interaction') devices in both their iPod and iPhone lines. A major aeronautical company also announced that they would commence regular commercial flights into space from 2013.

* * *

Periodic Report #0163 

Date: May 15th, 2016

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsections (a) (c) (d)

Attachments: Thesis "The Internet: A Useful Muggle Technology"

The countries of Albania and Montenegro have been accepted into the European Union.

Abroad, Australian citizens voted in a referendum to withdraw from the Commonwealth. With a majority of 52, the country declared its independence from the Queen. Legislative changes are scheduled to occur by the end of the year, and a new governmental system in place by January 2018.

The culture of entertainment has evolved rapidly over the past ten years. Since the inception of 'reality television' and 'real-time' presentations such as _Big Brother_ (see Special Report #037 section 6 "Why Muggles Consider Sociology Experiments Fun"), Muggles have conceived more and more bizarre and barbaric notions of what is entertaining. A new concept is 'virtual reality' game shows, where contestants can engage in brutally dangerous tasks with high risk of injury and death, without posing any real threat to their health.

A new science Muggles are exploring is nanotechnology. The current work is mainly focuses on creating a 'modifiable polymer matrix', a type of fabric with both military and fashion applications. The journal "Science Today" in their article 'Miracle Fabric' noted;

"…Modifiable Polymer Matrix (MPM) applications in the defence sector are astounding; within the next five years, US defence sub-contractor, Praxis Corporation, envisages that the material be used as flexible soldier armour. The armour would be coupled with an on-board micro-processor, allowing the MPM to change instantaneously to rigid for bullet-proofing, detect and filter out chemical/biological compounds, and treat wounds."

The field of robotics has also continued to grow. Reports from Japan indicate that robots are used to search and retrieve physical objects in unmodified environments. The robots have the limited ability to 'learn' using artificial neural networking.

In the Information Technology sector, microchips and processors are still exponentially decreasing in size and increasing in data volume. (See Special Report #032 "Moore's Law") This year saw the introduction of 3-dimensional optical data storage (special report next month). There is some talk within the industry of a new generation of search engine known as the 'semantic web browser'. (See attached thesis for further information)

* * *

Periodic Report #0225 

Date: July 30th, 2021

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsections (a) (b) (d)

Attachments: Special Report #46 "Muggle financial and commodity markets"

Australia, the United States of America (USA), and other countries have entered into negotiations to form a federated alliance. By all accounts, this seems to be due to the increased influence and power of the European Union. Since withdrawing from Iraq four years ago, the USA has sought ways to regain power, and it thought that an affiliation with other ex-Commonwealth countries would yield the control it seeks.

The last few days have also seen that largest stock market 'crash' since 1987. Initiated by a crisis in the mining sector and feed by a combination of abnormally high oil prices (now at US$189 a barrel, see Special Report #39 "Peak Oil"), frantic rate rises, and the collapse of software giant Microsoft. Coupled with the external political unease generated by the US, the ramifications of such a sudden shift in equity is likely to have an effect on Gringotts, especially their Galleon to Euro exchange rate.

Muggle entrepreneur Robert Bigalow announced last week that his new space hotel is due to open at the end of the year. Located 300 miles from Earth's surface, it apparently offers a magnificent view of the earth. In his press release, Mr. Bigalow unveiled plans to develop a section of the Moon for a 'semi-permanent colony'.

Mass-production of bio-fuels (BF) and BF-consuming transport devices is due to start by 2025. A treaty signed by the majority of countries has banned the mining in 'environmental protection zones'; as a result oil can only be pumped from pre-discovered areas. These areas are already nearly exhausted, which has resulted in the constantly soaring barrel prices. The European Union has created an initiative which approves financial grants to companies that are developing sustainable (renewable) fuel sources or alternative energies.

* * *

August 18th, 2023 

Sunnymead Park, Oxford

Phillip Braithewaite waited on a bench in, what he considered to be, the most attractive park in England. It was also his preferred rendezvous location to meet with his 'handler' from the Ministry. Interestingly, after twenty-one years living as he had, it was his favourite Muggle environment; a place he could reflect on his life and enjoy his relative peace and quiet.

A voice broke him out of his reverie. "Enjoying the last of spring, Phillip?"

He glanced up to see the auburn-haired witch walk the last couple of steps. "I enjoy all the moments I can, Francine," he replied as she reclined on the powder-metal bench beside him. "You're getting better with your disguise," he quipped, referring to the fact that she managed to get clothing within the last five years of Muggle fashion.

Francine smirked. "If I lived here like you do, I'm sure I'd fair better." She picked up the rolled report from the space between them and surreptitiously placed it in the pocket of her jeans.

They passed a few moments in contemplative silence, before he enquired, "Any indication from the Office as to when this assignment is over?"

Francine shook her head. "No, but they do love your reports – there is always a rush of activity after I bring in the parchment. And we've now got a new section heading up research after you recommended we apply that Muggle concept…the InnerWeb…?"

Phillip snorted once, before breaking out in a fit of chuckles. Francine glared at him indignantly.

"What?"

"The InnerWeb – now that's the funniest thing I've heard since Muggles decided that teleportation involved destroying themselves at one end and recreating their body at the other." Phillip managed through barely contained giggles.

Francine now looked horrified. "They do…what?"

Phillip paused to wipe the tears of merriment from his cheeks. "I'm compiling another thesis; there is a lengthy explanation, so I won't bore you with it now. Just look out for it in the next couple of months. And the InnerWeb, it's the _Inter…net_," he pronounced slowly, "but InnerWeb would be an excellent name for the Wizarding equivalent."

Francine assimilated the information and nodded. She reached into her hoodie pocket, removing a rolled up _Daily Prophet_. She nudged him with it. "A gift for your birthday, I thought you might want to catch up with some news from home."

Phillip snatched the _Prophet_ eagerly. "Merlin, I haven't seen one of these in years!"

Francine rolled her eyes. "Contain your excitement, and keep it hidden. I know you're not to retain any connections with the Magical World, so make sure you burn it after you finish reading, or the boss will have my guts for potions ingredients," she warned. "So I'll see you next month?"

Phillip barely glanced up. Francine waved her hand between his face and the paper. He snapped his eyes up. "Same place, same time, but the 25th," he stated.

"See you then," Francine replied.

Already engrossed in the article, Phillip barely acknowledged her departure.

_Later the same day…_

On the way home, Phillip decided to commence what he termed his 'news run'. Entering his one of his regular newsagents, Marshall News, conveniently located near the tube station, the clerk greeted him warmly.

"Hey, Phil."

"Hi, Ze," Phil replied as he strolled through to the magazine section. The clerk in this location presumed he was a research assistant at Oxford University. He began plucking copies of each of the plethora of available journals from the shelves; American Journal of Science, Popular Science, Science Magazine, COSMOS (those Australians really had some weird ideas), 21st Century Science and Technology, New Scientist, Seed (this promised an article on reverse engineering the human brain). The next stand along yielded a handful of the most useful computing magazines; MacUser, Personal Computer World and PC Magazine. As he sauntered back to the counter he grabbed one of every newspaper; he had found that, even though they generally contained the same news, each carried some unique stories.

He dropped the, rather large, pile of articles on the counter, and waited while Ze scanned and totaled the sale.

"We'll be stocking a new mag in the next couple of weeks," she remarked off-handedly as Phil paid her. She tapped a silvered nail on the top of the stack. "You must read in your sleep to get through all of these," she commented.

"I only read the articles that apply to my research." Phil pulled out a green-bag and began transferring the journals from the counter to the bag, dismissing her concerns.

Ze made a slight noise of acceptance and smiled. "I'll be seeing you next time?"

"Keep me a copy of the new magazine?" Phil asked as he adjusted his hold on the bag.

"Sure thing." Ze nodded.

_Later that night…_

Phillip set aside the stack of publications, many marked for further consideration, on the right-hand side of his bureau. Remaining on the bare expanse, at the left of the desk, lay the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that Francine had slipped him in the park earlier. Though having already read most of the articles, his eye was, once again, drawn to the feature article.

_**Daily Prophet **_

**17th August**** 2023**

**"New Association Formed: Ministry Concerned"**

The announcement made today, by reclusive Pureblood Draco Malfoy, sent tremors of apprehension through Wizarding Society. Since the defeat of the Dark wizard, Voldemort, twenty-five years ago, many reforms having been made establishing new legislation with the main aims of justice, fairness and equality. In his statement, Mr. Malfoy expressed his belief that the new Life Association for Magical Purity, would never represent the ideologies that the Death Eaters perpetrated many years ago.

"…I am merely fulfilling a need. Since the end of the War, many Purebloods have been at a disadvantage. This association offers an alternative for Purebloods, in the form of a supportive social environment, where they can express their opinions without vilification." – Draco Malfoy, 43, at his home in Wiltshire.

The announcement comes on the back of a successful lodgment of their Charter with the Wizengamot…

Phillip finished the article and set it aside. Twenty-one years immersed in the Muggle World had estranged him from the political opinions and social changes the Wizarding World had experienced. His first couple of years in his new environment had been difficult; his Pureblood arrogance had bred, unbeknown to him at the time, a dangerous mix of narrow-mindedness and ignorance.

As he began his research, realization dawned on him that wizards and Purebloods were not as superior to Muggles as he had preferred to believe. Every year, and every technological advance, was additional proof that Muggles weren't the dumb, barbaric animals he had been led to believe. A fact that struck him was the obvious disparity between the technology used by wizards, compared to that of Muggles. Without magic, non-magic humans had endeavoured to better their life by any means. With magic, wizards used their ability like a crutch. The major advancements in the last hundred years for wizards were the potions field. For the Muggles, Phillip never ceased to be amazed at their ingenuity.

Phillip folded the Prophet and pushed it away. He hoped that his fellow wizards were cautious. More importantlym, he was optimistic that they would learn from the past.

* * *

Periodic Report #0304 

Date: February 13th, 2028

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsections (a) (d)

Attachments: New Scientist article; "Heart-Lungs transplant – Modern Cloning Applications"

In referendums in the following three countries, America, Australia and New Zealand, citizens voted to initiate the largest political union since the European Union. Representatives from all three countries will form the basis of the AANZ Federation. After French Canada joined the European Union last year, causing a split, the remaining English-speaking states of Canada have also applied to join the AANZ. The Federation has extended offers of membership to South America, South Africa, Papua New Guinea and some of the Island microstates. Once ratified, due to take place by 2035, the countries will adopt the dollar as their official coinage.

Serbia, Bosnia, and Herzegovina are now official candidates for the EU. Russia continues to express interest, but until it changes the rigid policies, that contravenes the Copenhagen Criteria, it will continue to be denied entry.

With the formulation of another political conglomerate, other countries, with similar guiding principles and objectives, appear to be acting to form their own alliances. China, Japan, India and Indonesia have expressed their desire to follow this trend. It has been suggested that they plan to align themselves with the vast majority of African countries which currently mine 40 of the world's available metals, radioactive materials, and precious gems.

For the science update, I have attached an enlightening article from a Muggle publication called New Scientist. After years of stem cell cloning to grow 'replacement' tissue, scientists have successfully cloned, and re-grown, a person's heart-lung system and transplanted it into them.

Scientists also announced last week that they have made breakthroughs in the field of nanotechnology. They have welded the application of robotics to quantum miniaturisation, to create molecule- sized automatons. These 'nanobots' are capable of both independent computations, in order to adapt to the environments in which they are placed, and the ability to repair and replicate. Current trials conducted include one in Sweden, where these nanobots are injected into a patient's bloodstream, where they entered organs and other bodily processes, to seek and destroy cancer cells. Once their task is complete, they decommission and exit the body through the waste excretion process. This is a technology where I can find no comparison with a magical healing technique.

Upon concluding my investigation of this, I found another area of interest that I have previously overlooked. Bio-mechanics is science which involves implanting, and integrating, mechanical and electrical devices into a body to either substitute, or augment, an organ or body part. A special report, detailing this science, shall be attached to the next periodic report.

* * *

Periodic Report #0367 

Date: May 21st, 2033

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsections (d) (e)

Two major announcements this month;

Firstly, quantum state computers will become available to private individuals by the end of the year. The maker of the processors, IntelGen, announced that it also plans to release the processors in conjunction with AppleInc's new holographic interface, the i3.

Secondly, Russia has announced that it has successfully demonstrated cold fusion to produce energy. They have forwarded a manifesto to leading science bodies, around the world, challenging them to replicate their results

On another note, another significant development has occurred within the EU. The members recently passed a recommendation that all member states adopt, what is termed as, a Citizen Card. This plastic card will be constructed of holographic storage medium, and will contain the following data; personal details (DOB, contact details, social security number), financial data, medical history (including allergies, pre-existing conditions, insurance details), employment history, drivers license, education history, criminal record history (if applicable), and unique biometric identification (photo, digital representation of fingerprint, DNA, iris map, genetic disease risk groups, blood type). The card will be linked via wireless signal to 'nano-chips' injected into the owner's body, to prevent identity theft and fraud.

Once introduced in Britain, the card will replace all current identification, and will be required for any business, personal or financial transaction. The introduction will commence by January 2035, phasing out licenses and social security cards first, followed by secondary identification documents by 2036, and finally the use of currency by 2039. All member countries in the EU are expected to comply by the end of 2040.

* * *

Periodic Report #0405 

Date: July 29th, 2036

Subject: Directive #R366b, subsections (b) (d)

Scientists have successfully reverse engineered the human brain, and in discovering how to replicate consciousness and identity, have provided a way the record a copy of a 'person'. Additionally, they have applied the concept of 'humanity' to how a computer processor 'thinks'. Initial results have been astounding – a computer, known as Juliet5, composed a short piece of lyrical poetry. Scientists are calling this a 'breakthrough in Functional Emotive Procedure', and state that this conclusion, may lead to the creation of robots, and other electronic devices, that 'feel', not just analytically process data. Additionally, these microprocessors may be used as implants to treat conditions such as Alzheimer's, mental retardation and those with Autism.

The commodities markets jumped sharply this week mining mega-corporation RioTintoBHP, announced that it was going ahead with its plans to commission regular space mining on the asteroid dubbed A3Ryse. The company pioneered mining on the moon until concerns erupted over altering the gravitational force of the satellite. It will join with a Space Tourism company, Outer Limits Pty Ltd, to jointly fund the creation of a series of rockets and a permanent space station. The station will house mining workers on eighteen-month rotations as well as tourists.

* * *

September 11th, 2041. 

A small courtyard garden, Cambridge University.

Phillip was seated in his own portable stool, his back against the cool stone of the shaded building. While he waited, he flipped through the extensive Special Report, he had compiled, to accompany his regular report.

Pharmacogenomics was a field he found particularly interesting. In fact, the report that he handled carefully, was basically a synopsis of a dissertation that he had published himself. Nearly twelve years ago, convincing himself it would be better 'cover', Phillip enrolled in Cambridge University. Since then, he had completed a double degree (B. Arts / BSc.), post-graduate studies, and even lectured occasionally.

He smirked – if old Kelley would have told him he'd be where he is today, Phillip would have admitted him to St Mungo's.

"You look happy." Francine's voice rang out as she entered the small, grassed, area.

"Just appreciating how good life is," he replied.

"Hold onto that thought…I have something I need to tell you, and you probably won't like it." Francine stated ominously.

Phillip frowned when he saw her face. "What is it?"

"I'm retiring," she stated simply, with sadness.

"You're eight years younger than me! I should be the one retiring!" he spluttered.

"Word from the top is they think you are too important to re-assign, there is nobody even remotely interested in replacing you, not to mention nobody with the technical background…"

He interrupted her. "So, I'm irreplaceable?"

"At the moment - yes. However, there is a new recruit, who is being groomed for the position. First, she'll be my replacement. I have three months to get her up to scratch. After that she'll replace you someday," she explained.

Phillip considered grumbling more, but realised there was nothing he could do. Instead, he stared at the report he held.

"Another Special Report?" she asked, indicating the blue-jacketed folder under the typed monthly statement of affairs.

"Yes – the larger version of this, a thesis, was published by one of the Muggle academic journals," he replied with a hint of pride in his voice.

She smiled broadly. "Congratulations! Might I ask what farma…co…jenom…icks is?" she quizzed, reading the word on the label and pronouncing it with difficulty.

"Read the report – it will be quicker than if I tried explaining it in layman's terms." He recognised the look of irritation sneak across her face. He sighed. "Basically, it's creating drugs – like potions – that are for a disease but are made unique for an individual based on their genetic make-up." A blank look greeted his last words. "Genetics is the study of what makes you, you – everyone's unique."

"Like our magical signature?" Francine was attempting to understand, but with a limited understanding of even basic Muggle science, she was having trouble.

"Not quite. Like a fingerprint, but its called DNA," he patiently explained.

Francine frowned in consternation, the delicate wrinkles around her mouth and eyes creasing. "Maybe I should just read the report," she concluded.

* * *

January 27th, 2042 

London's Kew Gardens, Biosphere 4: Rare and exotic orchids and bromeliads.

In comparison to the biting wind outside, the air inside was humid and pleasant. Phillip was currently admiring a bank of jewel orchids, their velvety foliage capturing tiny beads of moisture from the air.

A soft whisper off to one side caught his attention. He stood, on guard, as the whisper grew louder, separating into two distinct female voices. He glimpsed Francine through the gaps in the flora first. Another woman with whom she conversed trailed her. As they rounded a corner, he could distinguish the new witch clearly; a sharp angular face, raven-coloured tresses tamed by a barrette, and slight stature. She could have been no older than nineteen or twenty.

He strode purposely toward them; they halted their steps as he closed the last few metres, pausing just in front of them. "Francine," he greeted her somewhat stiffly. He gestured at the stranger. "This must be your replacement."

Stilted by his uncharacteristic choice of address, Francine inclined her head quizzically. She steered the younger witch forward with a firm hand. "Phillip, this is Sabina, she'll be your new contact from today," she introduced, "I was just telling her how lovely it has been working with you," she finished with a slight hint of sarcasm.

"Greetings, Sabina." He offered his hand, which she took tentatively. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I expect that working with you will be just as exciting as the reports you author," she responded coyly.

"I would think the novelty wears thin, don't you think, Francine?" he asked with a smile.

"Phillip's assignment is probably more exhilarating than merely retrieving his reports," she replied.

"Then I have something to look forward to." Sabina echoed his gaiety with a demure grin.

Changing the subject and recomposing his visage into one of seriousness, Phillip queried. "What made you interested in this assignment?"

Sabina's grin grew into a beaming smile. Blithely, and with a touch of mysteriousness she responded. "You could say that it is in my blood."

* * *

**A/N: **Many thanks to my beta reader Khantael 

And…If you're reading this, it doesn't take make more extra effort to leave a review.

Cheers

Judith-C


	3. In which choices are made

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter… wish I did – a spare million would come in handy from time to time.

* * *

May 2nd, 2048 

Phillip continued making his regular monthly reports; Sabina proved to be an eager apprentice; she was able to grasp concepts that Francine, even after years of reading his reports, had struggled with comprehending. She evidently reviewed each report with a critical eye, constantly querying his terminology and presenting her own theories for which further advances to appraise. Though she had some difficulty adjusting to Muggle culture, she needed to be advised of the correct behaviour or actions required on the initial occasion, only once.

However, in the first few years he worked with her, she never discussed anything other than the assignment, going so far as to refuse to answer questions of a personal nature. When asked about her family, she either avoided the question or blatantly responded with some mundane comment about the weather or the latest ridiculous Muggle fashion.

Finally, he quizzed her about the comment she had made when they had first met. She smirked and had told him about the diary, where her grandfather journalised his work as a spy. When Phillip commented that he must be an amazing wizard to converse with, she sneered and bitterly responded that he had died before her father was even born. Phillip tactfully steered the conversation elsewhere, and the topic was never raised again.

Today, just over six years later, he bided his time at their pre-arranged location - yet another report awaited her collection. The Muggles had explored further into the inner space of the quantum world. Quantum computers were already becoming more affordable, and scientists were already exploring other avenues. Two new applications had arisen. The first used nanotechnology and quantum mechanics to construct what was termed as a quantum assembler. The process would allow nearly anything be replicated by constructing it at the atomic level. The second was the application of quantum mechanics to what cosmologists termed the "Cosmic String Phenomena", to provide instantaneous, sub-dimensional travel from one location to the next, irrespective of distance travelled. Phillip found this latest science

somewhat difficult to understand, but thought of it as the Muggle's concept of Portkeying.

He glanced at his watch. Uncharacteristically, Sabina was late. Furrowing his brow with consternation, he took particular care to examine his surroundings. He could not discern her approach, nor was there any indication that the location was under surveillance - the only reason why she may have chosen to abort. Lastly, he checked his tiny communication device - Sabina also had one; if she were to be delayed for any reason, she was required to contact him. The interface revealed no sign of recent activity. He muttered a string of choicest expletives under his breath as he got up to walk away.

He irately shoved the report back in his satchel. Procedure now dictated that a substitute meeting had to take place in exactly two days at the pre-arranged secondary site. It annoyed him as it was the first time in this assignment he had had to presume they were compromised. What infuriated him more was the fact he had been scheduled to attend a technology convention over the next couple of days, and the time of the back up plan coincided with a symposium he had keenly wanted to attend.

He stormed out of the park, and up the street, seething with anger.

_Two days later…_

At the same time, but in a different location, Phillip waited impatiently in the shade of a tree. He glared at his watch again for at least the fifth time since he seated himself on the slightly damp concrete bench. Unconsciously, he tapped his foot, the tread of his boot making faint thumps that increased in tempo as time passed.

Finally, Sabina approached. Phillip rose - words of reprehension on his lips - when he saw, and comprehended, the poignant misery etched across her face. As she drew closer, anger also tinged her features; her mouth was set in a line and her eyes dull.

"Sabina?" he asked gently, pouring as much empathy into that single word as he could.

She brushed past him, and flopped resignedly on the bench he had just vacated.

He took up his seat again beside her. She shuffled away from him, hugging her arms to herself, as she stared obstinately down at the ground.

"Sabina?" he queried softly, concerned, touching her gently on her shoulder.

She hissed and flinched as if his hand had burnt her. Taking a breath, she snarled, "Give me the report."

Phillip snatched back his hand in consternation. Something was wrong, that much was apparent. Resuming procedure, he slid the report from his satchel, but before he could hand it to her, she reached across his lap and snatched it violently from him.

Before he could register her drastic actions, she had removed herself from his vicinity and marched away.

"Sabina!" he bellowed, bewildered by her behaviour.

She stopped in her tracks, but failed to turn back to him. When her upper body started shuddering, he realised that she must be emotionally wrought over something.

He waited some moments before making his way towards her. "What's wrong, Sabina?"

"What's wrong?" she whispered, almost to herself. She turned to glower at Phillip. "What's wrong?" she growled. "I'll tell you what is _wrong_, Phillip. **Muggles**…" she spat the word, expelling it with vehemence. "Muggles," she repeated, disbelief tinting her anger.

Phillip knew that something out of the ordinary must have happened for her to respond in such a way. She had previously shared the same opinion of Muggles as he – they were essentially no different to them. From her demeanour, something had occurred, and it was obviously horrific.

"Tell me," he directed gently.

Sabina's frame sagged as she resigned herself to the recitation of the reason for her anguish. Phillip led her back to the seat.

Her breath hitched as she began. "I invited my mother and brother into London with me – I wanted to show them around some of the beautiful parks and gardens, before I met up with you." She took another shaky breath. "We were enjoying the scenery in Hyde Park when this…man…walked up to mother and pushed her. He demanded her jewellery. My brother intervened, pulling his wand. The Muggle _laughed_ at him and stabbed him in the throat. When I went to help him, the Muggle dragged our mother away." She gulped air then exhaled a keening cry. She cried for a minute or so before she composed herself enough to continue. "My brother died in my arms – I tried to heal the wound, but it bled so fast." She examined her hands, searching for further evidence of her failure.

Phillip sat - mouth agape in shock.

She closed her eyes, and, trembling, bit her lip nervously as she hiccoughed another lungful of air. "Those Muggle investigators came, removed my brother's body, asked me every question under the sun. They were suspicious when I couldn't produce a Citizen Card. I told them my family and I were tourists from Australia. They seemed to be happy with the documents I charmed." She sighed. "They found mother yesterday." The last was spoken as a strangled cry, and she pushed a tightly clenched fist against her mouth as she struggled to regain control.

Phillip watched, aghast, as she rocked with grief.

"They deduced that she was killed after she was…defiled." She tightened her jaw. "They showed me where the Muggle filth had left her - discarded in some scrub." She turned her tear-streaked face to his abruptly. "My beautiful, Pureblood mother, used like a common Mudblood, and tossed aside like garbage," she spat.

She waved the report in his face. "And still it's expected of me to ferry this…" She grasped the report and ripped it in two, then continued, "…news of '**Muggle** advancement'." She ripped the papers into quarters. "The only thing **Muggles** excel at…" She rent the paper yet again, "…is perfecting the way they **kill**." She emphasized the last by flinging the fragments away from her.

Phillip watched as his report fluttered to the ground in jagged pieces. He opened his mouth to comment, but she beat him to it. "Don't," she commanded. "I don't want to hear about your _precious _**Muggles**," she sneered as she rose indignantly.

Phillip watched her stride off huffily; her shoulders thrust back and her navy blue jacket flapping against her. As he closed his eyes and shook his head, pondering these events, the scraps of paper were snatched away and scattered to the breeze - just as Sabina's enthusiasm had been, two days prior.

* * *

August 23rd, 2048 

After over three months of mourning her mother, Stephanie, and her brother, Antonius, Sabina was moving on. Her intense grief had seen her locked away from the world; she had taken a leave of absence from the Ministry and they had assigned a temporary agent to collect Phillip's reports. Despite the initial fervent invitations from well-wishers, Sabina had refused to associate with her peers, choosing instead to retreat into her boudoir and weep for days on end. Spurred by her misery and his own, her father was rarely seen either. They passed each other occasionally in the house, but, as if strangers on a winter night street, they barely acknowledged each other, holding fast to their own coats of despair.

She had barely eaten through the ceaseless hours of wakefulness; her joy for anything life offered had died with her mother. She ate for sustenance only, bathed because it was necessary, and clothed her despondency with colours of midnight equanimity. She lost weight, her skin took on hollows and crags, her visage became sallow, her silky hair became lank, and her eyes diluted with pain. Her rest brought her comfort; only within her dreams, could she laugh and be beautiful, for it was only in her dreams now that she could see her mother and brother as they had been before; blemish less and whole.

Apart from her dreams, she found solace in her grandfather's diary. Now mostly alone in the world, she found she could concur with passages she had previously scoffed at. The cramped, spiky, handwriting comforted her, as did the no-nonsense adages and experiences penned within.

Her grandfather had been a solitary man; after losing the love of his life through his own actions, he had sought to rectify his fault. For years, he lived like a pariah, serving two masters if only to prevent himself from losing more of his heart. He had met her grandmother in the last year of his life, finally finding someone who could mend his heart and salvage his soul. He died a martyr's death, leaving the diary with her, as the only proof of his existence.

Sabina's favourite adage from the diary was one penned near the start, after her grandfather's heart-wrenching account of loss. It was a Muggle saying, and he had bolded it with many quill strokes; '_**it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all**_'. She agreed; unlike her grandfather, she had been privileged to have had had loving parents and a brother; her loss carried within her heart the bitter representation of her love.

Today, she was preparing to return the world. Her cousin David Cornfoot had invited her to attend a recruitment information meeting held by the Life Association for Magical Purity that afternoon. When originally offered the opportunity to join whilst she attended Hogwarts, Sabina had been hesitant. During the first six years working with Phillip, she had seen, for herself, the truth behind the Pureblood propaganda.

However, the events on that last day of April had shattered her world-view. Everything that Muggles did that had seemed wondrous, she now saw as having a malevolent impetus. She had researched the Muggle World more in the last two weeks, and found it was like how she purported it to Phillip; each of the significant advancements in Muggle technology were applied to engineering better ways to maim and murder. It was due to the sheer absurdity of Muggles that when they discovered atoms over one hundred years ago, the first thing that they did was to investigate its potential destructive uses. The historical account of an atomic bomb being utilised to mass murder thousands of humans instantaneously, had jolted her out of her own grief. Another emotion replaced her angst; a grim rage blossoming in her heart.

Her rage was fuelled by the more instances of wide spread wickedness that she discovered in her research; on the one hand, technology was being used to better life, and on the other, it was used to destroy it. The more she found, the more she realised how disillusioned Phillip and she had been, prior to the violence that took her family away. In her opinion, despite their staggering technological advances, Muggles were still barbaric animals; just savage creatures trying desperately to imitate the superior knowledge and power of Wizards.

She could understand, now, why in 1793 the Wizengamot concluded that Muggles were inferior and their 'technologies' evil. Up until that time, the Wizengamot commissioned expeditions into the Muggle world with the view to adopting viable inventions. It had ceased when a group of Black Moors had exterminated an entire Pureblood family. It was then that Pureblood families decreed non-magical humans as weak abominations. The practice of snatching away Muggleborns had started; squibs left in their place. In the intervening years between then, and when Phillip had began his assignment, only brief forays had been made into the Muggle World. Each venture concluded the same thing; Muggles were inferior and struggled without magic.

Sabina made one final adjustment to her robes. Squaring her shoulders with determination, she Portkeyed to the Cornfoot residence.

* * *

July 16th, 2052 

Annual General Meeting of the Life Association for Magical Purity (L.A.M.P.)

Held at the home of Delphinus Black, Secretary of L.A.M.P.

Sabina moved through the crowd of friendly faces on the arm of her beau, smiling demurely as other witches and wizards greeted her. In the four years, since she had joined as a social member of L.A.M.P., she had met many individuals who shared her ideals. Even though she still worked for the Ministry, and continued collecting Phillip's various reports, she worked neither as diligently, nor as interestedly as she had once done before. L.A.M.P. was her passion; tonight she was here to be inducted into the higher echelons of the organisation, where she would work as one of the administrative officers.

Delphinus Black had taken her under his wing shortly after she joined as a social member of L.A.M.P. He had consoled her loss and taught her to use her rage constructively. He shaped her raw emotion into the smooth ideology cultivated by L.A.M.P. members. He had descended from a long line of proud Purebloods. His great-grandfather, Alphard Black, had made only one mistake in his life – he helped his blood-traitor nephew. Though struck from the original Black family, Alphard sought redemption, and marrying as true Purebloods should, built the new house of Black. Immigrating to Russia just before Voldemort's downfall, his son forged an alliance with a Pureblood Russian family, marrying the heiress Irena Ivanovicz. His son, Delphinus' father, Altair, wed a German Pureblood before returning the House of Black to Britain. Joining L.A.M.P. whilst at Hogwarts, Delphinus had risen quickly through the ranks, attaining the office of secretary at the age of thirty.

Sabina glanced fondly at the wizard at her side; Delphinus Black was not only her sponsor, but also her fiancée. Even though she was what was coined as Noveau Pure (she couldn't prove her heritage more than two generations back), Delphinus considered her pure enough. In fact, a popular, though widely debated philosophy of L.A.M.P., was that Old Pureblood families should marry into the New Pureblood ones. Although they acknowledged the worth of this, some Pureblood families refused to adopt this idea.

She had been somewhat concerned when Delphinus had pulled her aside shortly after she arrived tonight, and announced that all potential administrative and executive members, were to consent to a short Veritaserum interview conducted in the presence of board members. Though her fiancée was aware that she worked at the Ministry, he only knew that she worked in the Department of Mysteries. As an Unspeakable, she was forbidden to mention specifics of her assignments outside of work, or even acknowledge that she was part of the most secretive Office in the Ministry.

Prior to tonight, other members of L.A.M.P.'s executive committee had interviewed her to determine where her allegiances lay. Even though individuals were permitted to have dual social memberships with both L.A.M.P. and the Order, executive and administrative members were expected to show loyalty to only one organisation. Those tendering for admission, as Sabina was tonight, were expected to denounce any other affiliations.

After some time socialising, the attendees were summoned to a large boardroom. As Sabina took her place next to her fiancée, she waited as the remaining executive members filed into the room. At the head of the table sat the Chief Executive; the white-haired Draco Malfoy, his Founder's ring glinting as he shuffled a pile of parchment. To his left reclined Gerhart Dolohov-Avery, his Chief of Operations. At thirty-five, he, like Delphinus, had risen quickly through the ranks. Hands folded neatly before him, he stared imperiously down the table at the members. To Malfoy's right was Maurice Nott, the dour wizard who was the Administrative Director of L.A.M.P.

Next to Nott, Malfoy's grandson, and Nott's son-in-law sat. Abraxas Malfoy, at just twenty-two, was the youngest member of the board. Having neither the intelligence of his father nor the ostentatious bearing of his namesake, Abraxas attained the position by familial ties only. Other members viewed him as a necessary irritation, and with his position entailing the administration of the social division of L.A.M.P., he was kept largely out of their way.

Next to Dolohov-Avery was the Educational Coordinator, Michael Cornfoot. Sabina's uncle's portfolio consisted of administering the Hogwarts branch of L.A.M.P, as well as procuring suitable internships and apprenticeships for their younger members. Next to Nott, was Sinclair Burke. The burly wizard was the Board's Legal Counsel and Director. Any changes to their constitution and any official actions partaken, would have to pass through his hands first. A variety of non-executive members made up the remainder of attendees.

Sabina and Delphinus were placed next to Burke, and the broad-shouldered wizard greeted them both with a solemn nod. As the Board Secretary, Delphinus prepared a fresh stack of parchment in front of him. Pulling out a fountain pen, he marked the date and time on the top sheet. Next to him, Burke chuckled. "You too, eh?" He pointed at the pen clutched in Delphinus' hand.

Sabina's fiancée lifted the pen from the paper, and regarded it. "Quite handy – never runs out either," he commented.

Burke reached into his robes, withdrawing a similar implement. He held it out for Delphinus. "Gold nib, one tap of your wand and the ink colour changes."

"Nice," he replied as he examined the pen. "I see more and more of these nowadays – and about time too."

Burke agreed. "I had one in school, but couldn't use it for anything but my homework, everyone that saw it pestered me to borrow it."

Delphinus laughed softly.

Burke leaned towards him, speaking softly. "Did you hear about the new system they're installing in the library at Hogwarts?"

Delphinus frowned in quiet contemplation. "That Muggle technology the Department of Mysteries has been developing?" he queried.

"Yes. Will supposedly revolutionise how the students study."

"Make them lazy more like," Delphinus snorted

Burke almost replied, but was interrupted by Malfoy calling the meeting to order.

Malfoy had stood, and he clasped the back of his chair as he spoke. "Welcome, friends and colleagues, to the 29th Annual General Meeting of the Life Association for Magical Purity. As you know, these yearly meetings give us opportunity to welcome our new candidates. This year, I would like to extend the hand of opportunity to Mario Belby, who seeks to join our Educational Division…"

A tall, brown-haired wizard rose to his feet at the far end, and the rest of the table clapped politely. Malfoy continued. "Rudolph Bagman… Everett Yaxley… " After each name, the individual rose to be acknowledged. Lastly, Malfoy gestured at Sabina, and she prepared herself for the introduction. "…and finally Sabina Cornfoot, who wishes to serve as an Administrative Officer." She rose gracefully, grateful that Michael had allowed her to take her mother's maiden name when she had died.

The meeting continued; reports were given, notes were scrawled and motions were passed. Finally, the majority of the meeting concluded, and everyone, except the seven executives and the four candidates, were asked to leave. After some hushed whispering between the executives, Abraxas Malfoy also left. Once the door had been shut, and warded, behind the sulking wizard, Dolohov-Avery addressed the four.

"You come before us pure of heart, mind and blood. You have proved yourselves both upstanding citizens of our World, and enthusiastic members of this Association. You each were recommended for advancement by either me or my colleagues. Over the past three months, each member of this Board has had the opportunity to interview you further, to advise you and mentor you. We have found each of you to be suitable for progression to a position of privilege." He gazed at each one of the four respectfully.

"However, there is one final procedure that must be adhered to. It is necessary that those within these privileged ranks are loyal and true to Our beliefs and principles, and therefore it is essential that I ask of you to comply to a Veritaserum interview. Each will be questioned by the Board individually, and if your answers satisfy us, you will proceed to the final stage." He glanced down at his notes. "Belby, Cornfoot and Yaxley, if you could please remain in the sitting room until you are called." He indicated a door opposite to the one they had come through earlier.

Sabina and the two other wizards shuffled silently into the room, where one of the non-executive members greeted them.

"Empty out your pockets and hand over your wand," he commanded, his face blank.

Sabina complied, handing over a sheaf of notes from the meeting and her wand.

The wizard then subjected her and the other two to examination by a thin golden rod – a Probity Probe - and an electronic device. Yaxley shied away from the unfamiliar device. "What in Merlin's name is that?"

The wizard smirked. "An idea we stole off the Muggles – sort of an X-Ray device."

Yaxley scowled. "I don't trust anything made by a bunch of monkeys."

The wizard sneered. "One of them, are you? Most of the Old Families rethought that particular philosophy years ago, not many hard-liners around these days. Let me guess, Dolohov-Avery's sponsoring you?"

Yaxley threw his head back haughtily. "Yes. I am the first, I believe," he said smoothly, arrogance dripping from his words.

A hearty chuckle from Mario Belby broke the icy atmosphere that had formed in the room. "I think Muggles are dangerous, but the things they have discovered or invented are amazing. Take for instance the lightbulb…"

Sabina snorted. "They are centuries beyond a mere lightbulb, Belby." She pointed at the electronic device in the wizard's hand, "Even that is outdated technology."

"And how would you know, Miss Cornfoot?" Yaxley interrupted snidely.

"Well, let me see…" she purred sarcastically, a thumb and forefinger around her jaw. "I do work in the Department of Mysteries…"

"You're an Unspeakable are you?" Yaxley disrupted her again, a touch incredulously, presuming that she were employed in the most secretive section of the Department.

"I can't answer that." Sabina's chilly remark prevented further questioning from either Yaxley or Belby.

Before any of them could comment again the door opened, and Belby was whisked away.

Sabina glared at Yaxley, before her visage softened and she spoke carefully. "I agree Muggles are animals, Yaxley, but I do think that assuming that they are harmless is dangerous. On the other hand, their technology is useful."

Yaxley merely nodded, and they sat in silence until Sabina herself was beckoned back into the boardroom.

_Some time later…_

Sabina sighed, her throat dry from talking. They had administered the second dose of Veritaserum a couple of minutes ago, and refused to allow her a glass of water until they had completed their questioning. The first round of questions consisted of those similar to when she had been interviewed for the position as an Unspeakable; name, address, place of birth, known family, had she committed any offences. As with the first time, she had been plied with Veritaserum, she hated the feeling that she could not think about her answers first; they just slipped from her brain and onto her tongue.

As she felt the same haze of uncontrollability fog her mind again, Dolohov-Avery recommenced his questioning.

"Where do you work?"

"Department of Mysteries"

"Which Section?"

"Office of the…" Sabina's mind went blank. All Unspeakables were Memory Charmed immediately upon entry to the Office.

Dolohov-Avery repeated his question. "Which Section?"

Again, Sabina's mind froze, it literally not finding the reference to her job as the Memory Charm went into effect.

Dolohov-Avery considered her quizzically. "Interesting…" he murmured.

Malfoy gestured him over to confer. After a few seconds of anxious whispering, Malfoy stood and addressed her. "How long have you worked as an Unspeakable?"

A memory not protected by the charm, Sabina tonelessly replied. "Ten years."

More whispering ensued, "What does your position entail?" Malfoy enquired, curiously watching her for a response.

A secondary Memory Charm initiated, and Sabina fell to the floor; her hands wrapped around her pounding head.

"Bloody hell," Delphinus snapped, "What in the name of Circe is going on?" He rushed to his fiancées side.

"Leave her and return to your seat, Black," Malfoy ordered, authority tingeing his voice. "It seems your fiancée is more than she purported to be." He looked at Black questionably, as if he presumed Black knew more than he, himself, did.

"All I know is she works in the Department of Mysteries, I never enquired further," he muttered.

"She is an Unspeakable, and evidently one of some importance as seen…" Malfoy waved his hand towards where Sabina lay on the floor breathing heavily, "by her reaction to the questions. Even Unspeakables do not use Memory Charms that inflict pain unless they seek to protect something immensely important." He glanced at the other board members. "I find it significant that she has had such a charm applied, and I propose we find a way to extract that knowledge," he emphasised, his voice strong with conviction.

Burke shook his head vigorously. "The legal ramifications are too complex to assess without proper consultation, Malfoy. You would have to deal with the consequences if the Ministry discovered that you forcefully extracted information from an Unspeakable, and bad press is not something we need at the moment."

Michael Cornfoot smirked. "We do have controlling interest in the _Prophet_ now – my family owns forty percent, I'm sure a few strings can be tweaked to ensure this is kept under wraps if something does leak out."

Burke glared at him in disbelief. "You and Malfoy are alike – buying your way out of a situation does not relegate our legal obligations. The Wizengamot could annul our charter over an action like this; worse, we could be jailed."

Malfoy slammed his fist to the table, and all but Dolohov-Avery, jumped back in surprise. "Merlin! She knows something. I put it to you, my friends; what if she is an agent working to infiltrate our organisation? Her being an Unspeakable, alone, warrants suspicion."

Burke rose from his seat. "Obviously, you will not listen to reason, Malfoy. Hence I tender a motion to exclude myself from these proceedings. If you intend to progress on this path, I shall involve myself no further," he stated contemptuously.

Delphinus, caught undecided, seconded the motion. With a nod from Cornfoot, the motion was carried. Burke removed himself from the table, pausing at the door. "I beg you to reconsider, my friends. But since you will not, I shall take my leave; at least I will be able to plead plausible deniability if, in fact, the worst happens."

A hush fell on the proceedings after the door clicked shut.After several awkward seconds, Malfoy cleared his throat. He turned to Dolohov-Avery. "You are able to break the Memory Charm?"

"I can. I will also repair it afterwards, with a minor change to allow us further entry to any further knowledge she may obtain, if she is agreeable."

Malfoy nodded, satisfied. "Do it," he demanded.

_Some time later again…_

Sabina sat stiffly, her neck and shoulders aching from staring ahead as Dolohov-Avery had ripped apart one of the most intricate Memory Charms ever developed by the Department of Mysteries. Finally, something in her head broke, and she gasped as her thoughts tumbled with everything concerning her employment as an Unspeakable. Another dose of Veritaserum found her staring blankly at him.

"Are you sure she's alright?" A voice to the left of her buzzed through the daze she found herself in.

"She is fine, Black," a voice, she faintly identified as Malfoy's, snarled.

A figure came into focus in front of her; she blinked languidly and stared through heavily lidded eyes at Dolohov-Avery.

"Excellent," he murmured. "Now. Which Section do you work for?"

"Section K1."

"What is Section K1 responsible for?"

"The procurement of information about Muggle trends, technologies and political movements."

"What is your role in this?"

"I am the Section contact for a deep cover agent, who has lived in the Muggle World for the last fifty years. I retrieve reports from the agent, then analyse and distribute the information to both Section K1 and Section R1."

"What is Section R1?"

"Research and development. Mainly applying Muggle knowledge and discoveries to an equivalent magical development."

"What sort of developments?"

A long list of advancements, both old and new rolled effortlessly from Sabina's mouth. Some had already been in use for many years in the Magical World, and

others were still locked away in the Department of Mysteries. All the board members gazed at her; with everything from disbelief to amazement written across their faces.

After some time, Nott laughed quietly. "Priceless – to think we got the best thing in office management from the Muggles."

Michael Cornfoot gave a long look of contemplation. "My son, David, has been raving about the InnerWeb for years – now you'll have me believe it's a _**Muggle**_ invention?"

Dolohov-Avery regarded Sabina thoughtfully. "How often do you make these expeditions into the Muggle World?"

"Every month."

He turned to Malfoy. "We could use this information if we had access to it first, or even if we could prevent the Ministry from becoming aware of certain advances; surely relying too heavily on what Muggles conceive is dangerous?"

Malfoy's forehead creased. "No," he said simply. "We found out that she is loyal to us, and I don't see how any of what she has access to can help us."

"We don't know what else that Department is holding from us; meddling with things they shouldn't," Dolohov-Avery expounded. "Think of what we can do…"

"Enough!" Malfoy's voice reverberated around the room. "I do not care to know what the Muggles are doing." He pointed at Sabina, who was drooling slightly. "Patch her up and let her fiancée take her home," he added wearily.

"One last question before we release her is in order, I think." Dolohov-Avery turned back to Sabina. "Why do you have an assignment concerning Muggles?"

Sabina's head lolled and she replied groggily. "No choice. I wish I didn't, filthy beasts they are…"

* * *

July 18th, 2052 

Sabina relaxed on a recliner in her sitting room, anxiously waiting the arrival of her visitor. Her head still ached from the events of two days prior, and she hoped Gerhart Dolohov-Avery had no further intentions today of prying more information out of her.

Polite knocking sounded on the front door. Sabina allowed her house-elf, Madie, to greet her guest and show him in. Shortly afterwards, Dolohov-Avery entered her sitting room and made himself comfortable on one of the chairs. He regarded her seriously. "Thank you for granting me an audience, Sabina. I apologise for the inconvenience that occurred at the meeting two days ago."

"Inconvenience?" she scoffed, "Is that what they call mind coercion these days?"

"We had to know, Sabina…"

She cut him off. "Even though I was in agony you still felt it necessary to continue?" she spat testily, irked by his neutral response.

"I came to propose something you might find mutually beneficial," he said, ignoring her last comment.

"Considering I am not unintelligent, I would be right if I presumed my end of the bargain would consist of providing you and the Association with classified information," Sabina spoke slowly, "that just might have something do to with my current assignment. I am correct, am I not?"

"I would be concerned if you portrayed yourself as anything but intelligent, Sabina," he replied softly. "Nonetheless, you are correct in your presumption – after breaking the Memory Charm and gaining access to your occupation-specific memories, I repaired the damage with one difference – you can also speak to me about your work."

Sabina stared at him. "I hope you were careful – one slight fault in the charm, and the next personnel review I undertake, will be my last." Or worse, she considered.

"I am the best there is, Sabina. At least, I am within my Department," he replied, some pride lingering in his voice.

"Obliviator?" she enquired.

"Yes."

"Interesting. So – what is it you propose?"

"Two things; a copy of every report that goes back to the Ministry, and the option of altering the reports so that the Department of Mysteries receives only those," he replied, watching her reaction.

"Why would the Association desire to change the reports? Is there some purpose of which am not yet aware?" she inquired, unsure of the agenda.

"Some of us within the Association feel that we are becoming too reliant on Muggle technologies, others consider the knowledge dangerous. Myself, I am curious to see what sort of threat they pose to us," he answered her.

"What sort of threat?" Sabina repeated, alarmed.

"If they have made all that progress in such a short period of time – with their 'science' – do you not wonder how long it will be until they discover magic?" he stated.

He gazed at her perplexed face. "Do you not also wonder then, what they would choose to do to us once they realise that a group of magical beings have remained excluded from them, hiding this secret?" Gerhart Dolohov-Avery sat back, and the question hung in the air portentously.

* * *

**A/N: **Again, thanks to my beta Khantael. 

Please review and tell me what you think so far.


	4. Realities Realised

_**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own Harry Potter. It's a shame, really… a spare million or two would come in handy sometimes…**

* * *

September 22nd, 2053

After Sabina's marriage to Delphinus Black late in 2052, Phillip found that she returned, somewhat, to the temperament she had had before the loss of her family. Her eagerness flourished anew, and even though the death of her father earlier in the year had saddened her, she never revisited that previously broken-hearted state.

The intervening years had wrought further amazing advancements. The announcement, early last week, that computers with human-like intelligence had approached the technological singularity, left Phillip gob smacked. This technological singularity was characterized by the technological creation of self-improving intelligence after the previous ten years of unprecedented rapid progress. A computer, designated Horizon13, had demonstrated both super-human intelligence and awareness. Over fears of the machine's capabilities, Muggles had segregated it from any network in a custom-built environment. Fused with robotics, it could function similar to a human - its creators allowing it to modify its immediate environment, as well as select input variants and mode of output.

He and Sabina were to meet in London proper. Taking into account the proximity of the location that he had chosen to Magical London, Phillip had decided to risk a walk past The Leaky Cauldron. As he turned into the street, a mass of emotions flooded through him. It was just over fifty years since he had been within spitting-distance to the Magical World, and even though the Muggle buildings in the street had changed, the Magical establishment was as world-weary as he remembered it to be. He was glad the Muggles never noticed it; and now, more than ever before. The taupe building sat incongruently squashed between two sleek metal and glass structures, its old-world charm adamantly refusing assimilation into the ultra-modern environment surrounding it.

He continued on his journey, but soon found himself drawn, inextricably, to a halt directly outside the pub. Ever since he accepted the assignment, he was prohibited to re-enter the Magical World under any circumstances. Nonetheless, Phillip hoped that one day he would return; though after so many years away, perhaps he 

wouldn't. Now at eighty-two, he had spent nearly two-thirds of his life away from that world, and the mere thought of leaving his adopted world, and being repatriated with the Magical World, left him feeling apprehensive. In somewhat the same manner he had felt upon the prospect of leaving the Magical World, his feelings were synonymous now with the thought of leaving this world.

While he may have mourned the loss of his house-elf and everyday use of magic for the first few years of his estrangement from the Magical World, nevertheless he had adapted. Now the thought of leaving behind his robotic appliances, quantum computer (with its massive database of facts and figures), and Muggle friends, Phillip could feel a hollow dread start to form. The bad taste life's unfairness rolled bitterly in his mouth. In retrospect, it had been relatively easy the first time to rip himself away from a life he loved, but as he aged, he would prefer not to repeat those actions – for he was comfortable in the life he had built himself here, in the Muggle World.

Still, his current situation – him being motionless outside of the Leaky Cauldron – left him with a dilemma. Curious to see what, if any, changes had been wrought on the Magical World, he was tempted to peek. On the other hand, if he enticed fate and anyone saw or recognized him, it could be detrimental to him, the mission, or both. Reasoning to himself that a quick foray through the Leaky Cauldron, and into Diagon Alley to grab a _Daily Prophet_, wouldn't compromise to any extent his mission. Not to mention that he doubted that, after fifty years, anyone would recognise him. Having reached this significant decision, Phillip let his feet lead him to the front door of the pub.

Entering the establishment, he breathed the distilled air of reminiscence – within the pub itself, nothing, except the bartend, had surrendered to change. Phillip shook his head; it was as if he had stepped back in time - the same quaint wooden furniture, pewter flagons, and copper-bound casks populated the room as when he last passed through.

He ambled discretely towards the back and the handful of patrons in the pub never gave him a second glance. Extricating his barely-used wand from the inner pocket of his sports coat, he tapped on the bricks; the sequence dredged up from the depths of his memory and replicated without a moments hesitation.

As the bricks rolled back revealing Diagon Alley, Phillip's breath caught in the back of his throat. Unlike the Leaky Cauldron, this centre of Magical commerce was vastly different from when he last remembered it. Where Madam Malkin's used to preside, another bustling establishment had replaced it. An acid-etched grey metal sign proclaimed "Ivan's InnerWeb Teahouse", and Wizarding folk both young and old hunched over bizarre metal contraptions. Most of the patrons sipped tea from lurid egg-yolk yellow and cerulean blue porcelain teacups bearing the shop's logo.

Curious, Phillip edged towards the wide-paned windows to investigate. Mouth agape, he stared as he caught sight of what the metal devices were. Similar in size to the early Muggle computer monitors, the chunky metal box-like items were scattered throughout the room at regular intervals. As one wizard leaned back from the front of one, Phillip realised that these strange items were, in fact, the magical equivalent of Muggle computers.

He stumbled in shock, as he finally comprehended that this Magical advancement was largely due to his investigative work within the Muggle World. The door to the establishment opened, and he braced himself against it as two young witches exited. He was glad he did so when he overhead their conversation.

"…did you see that I-owl I got?" one said.

The other witch responded with tinkling laughter. "Who'd have thought a wizard could do that…"

Phillip could only imagine what they were referring to when they mentioned an 'I-owl'. With his interest further heightened, he entered the store, only to have his hearing assailed by further unfamiliar references. Through the chatter, he could discern such words and phrases as; 'QuillPerfect', 'Weasley's Theurgical Gadget's latest Port-A-Floo', 'third level runic programming', 'your system's being attacked by a Peeves', and 'Parchment3.0'. He nearly broke out into a gale of undignified laughter when he heard the 'Port-A-Floo' reference – evidently the Wizarding World were ignorant of a certain Muggle invention of a similar name, which had a rather _different_ connotation.

To have said that the place was busy would have been a gross understatement. The interior teemed with Wizarding folk that conversed and hammered tablets with upraised letters. A young wizard approached Phillip as he lingered in the doorway – wearing tailored robes bearing the motif of the establishment.

"May I be of assistance?" he enquired. "We can book you in for the next session."

He peered at an apparatus not unlike Phillip's Muggle communication device, nodded to himself, before peering at Phillip through tinted lenses. "I can schedule you for fifteen minutes at terminal omega-three, and only for I-owl and InnerWeb."

As Phillip had remained speechless, the wizard continued, after tapping a short, wand-like stylus on the apparatus. "You have to book to use the parchment processing terminals – rather popular at the moment." He paused, and glanced at Phillip expectantly.

"Ahh…" Phillip stuttered.

The assistant frowned, then smiled as if he had just realised something. "Are you new at this?" he enquired.

Phillip nodded – purely for lack of any other appropriate response.

The assistant – a gaudy name badge pinned to his chest declared him to be 'Blair' – clapped his hands excitedly. "Excellent – first session is free for beginners," he emphasized before continuing. "And I'll give you a run-down on how they work – you'll need to know the basics before I let you loose on the Web," he smirked knowingly.

Phillip nodded his head more eagerly the second time – if these magical devices worked in similar fashion to the early Muggle ones, he would be adapt to these quickly. As Blair led him past the machines, Phillip noticed that, unlike the corresponding Muggle computers, these had no discernable power source. He halted and turned to Blair. "What powers these?"

Blair regarded him peculiarly. "Don't meet many people these days that are as… unenlightened…" he trailed off; slightly embarrassed that he had voiced his opinion.

Phillip smiled benevolently, and waved his hand to dismiss the assistant's discomfort. "I have been away for some time – in a remote location," he said neutrally.

Blair accepted the half-truth and smiled nervously. "Well…let's start from the beginning," he murmured, gesturing that Phillip should take his place in front of one of the terminals. He pointed to the 'monitor'. "This is a temporal imaging interface – it will display a graphical representation of the information generated by the computer."

Phillip smiled encouragingly. He was somewhat surprised that the Department of Mysteries had retained a Muggle terminology. Feigning ignorance, he queried. "Computer?"

Blair shrugged. "That's what they been called ever since they were introduced – I suppose because they compute or calculate things."

Phillip gave a look to convey contemplation, but internally he cheered.

Blair continued. "The computers and other similar devices are powered by thaumaturgical energy – or thaums – as we've been calling them for the last twenty years. Each computer is shielded against outside magical influence. Makers of the systems use both multilayered runic warding, and the metal, which contains the inner workings, is goblin-wrought titanium imbued with anti-transfiguration charms, as well as containment wards, and these form the physical representation of the these protections."

Phillip listened enthusiastically. After living in the Muggle World – with its constant discoveries and advancements - for so long, he cherished learning how the Wizarding World had applied this knowledge.

"The intelligent processor utilises the trinary system – as pioneered by Marcus Belby in 2026 – within the processor. Thaum ions exist as a positive charge, a negative charge, or a neutral charge, depending how they are arranged. Eighteen ions form an iona, nearly three-thousand and five hundred form a miliona, and the same number again of milionas form a teriona," Blair explained.

Phillip bobbed his head. Instead of utilising the binary system, that the Muggles had perfected, they used another system; obviously research had branched off. He wondered how Muggleborns coped with having to learn a dual system.

"Now, here at Ivan's, we offer the InnerWeb – a series of computers connected through the sub-dimensional theurgical network, I-owl – internal 'virtual' owls that utilise this network to send and deliver messages instantaneously , and parchment processing," Blair concluded.

Phillip considered the information. "What can you do with the InnerWeb?" he quizzed with phoney innocence.

Blair rubbed his hands together with glee. "Everything!" he exclaimed. "It is akin to a library, marketplace, a place to converse, and a million other things – all rolled into one. You want to find something – you just send a query through WTGExplore – and before you could wave your wand and summon a book…" he snapped his fingers, "…the answer is right there."

He reached over Phillip's shoulder and tapped something on the keyed tablet, and the temporal imaging interface flickered to multidimensional life. Hammering the keys, he entered a sequence of symbols, and the interface dissolved, then reformed into another configuration. "The _Online Prophet_," Blair lilted. "…Today's edition." He pointed to a section on the tablet. "Brush your finger down to scroll down, up, to the side etcetera – tap twice to select options." He demonstrated, and the focus of the paper slid to a new article. He leaned back. "I'll leave you to inspect the remainder of the paper – call me if you need further assistance."

As Blair retreated, Phillip leant forward to examine the particular article that the assistant had left glimmering on the interface. A familiar name caught his eye.

_**DRACO MALFOY LUCKY TO BE ALIVE!**_

_**Founder of L.A.M.P. found in Siberian Wilderness;**_

_**Near death and grievously injured.**_

_Today, the European Magical Union released a statement from its Siberia Bureau of Magic - detailing how a massive search for the illustrious Founder was launched five days previously - after Draco Malfoy failed to return from a scheduled Hippogriff flight along the western edge of the Ural Mountains._

_The alarm was raised by his wife, Astoria Malfoy, 71, from their estate in Wiltshire, England. Mrs. Malfoy was not available for comment, but her granddaughter, Seraphina, released the following statement:_

"_These are difficult times for our family, and even I though I thank everyone for their kind offers of support, I ask that the media respect our wishes regarding the dreadful accident which nearly claimed our patriarch's life."_

_When questioned further about the nature of this 'accident', the recently wed Seraphina Bletchley, refused to furnish us with anything more than sketchy details._

_However, according to contacts maintained within the Siberia Bureau of Magic, reports indicate that Mr. Malfoy fell from his Hippogriff after experiencing severe turbulence. The offending beast has yet to return, though many believe it to have fled into the wilderness._

_His traumatized form was discovered yesterday, and world famous Healer Persephone Johnston, who was first on the scene, made this statement:_

"_He survived by sheer magical will – it is surprising that he is alive at all. Mr. Malfoy is frail, and likely to be severely disabled for the remainder of his life. He fell over a mile, managed to cast sufficient levitation charms for some time, but plummeted the last eighty feet. Unfortunately, for Mr. Malfoy, he landed on rocks, shattering his spine, pelvis, and both his legs. With only enough energy to cast simple charms, he was only able to keep himself warm and minimally nourished until help came nearly a week later."_

_This publication offers the condolences, of both the owners and the readers, to the Malfoy family in their time of adversity._

Phillip blinked. Five days was a long time to remain untreated in harsh conditions, and, evidently, the L.A.M.P. Founder had sustained permanent injury. Thoughts of the Association brought to mind his real reason for being in London that day. He glanced at his watch and groaned – in his eagerness to rediscover the Wizarding World, he had near forgotten about his rendezvous with Sabina.

Leaving the computer without a backwards glance, Phillip hurried from the Teahouse, checking his watch again as he rushed down Diagon Alley. He cursed the brick wall when, in his haste, he tapped the wrong bricks, delaying his departure. When the passageway finally opened, he bustled through the Leaky Cauldron - this time raising a few eyebrows. Flustered, he exited the pub and hit the pavement running, his open coat flapping about him as he dashed down the street.

Rounding his second corner, his communication device chirped. Slowing only enough to wrestle the device from a pocket, he picked up pace again as he lifted the gadget to glance at the tiny screen. '_Where are u?'_ – A message from Sabina flashed across the screen. Without pausing, he keyed in a reply with the tip of his thumb; '_L8 – be there in 5'_ A confirmation bell tinkled to indicate a successful transfer of the communiqué.

Just under five minutes later, Phillip arrived at the location both out of breath and flustered. Sabina shook her head in astonishment, before laughing at his poor state.

"I see that, despite the anti-aging treatments you've been receiving to attain a younger appearance, you still have the stamina of an eighty-three year old," she muttered, to his dismay.

Phillip dropped to a chair opposite her. "I'm only as _old_ as I feel, Sabina."

Sabina snorted. "Deluded – are you certain you aren't senile?" she teased. She pursed her lips in thought. "So, why _are_ you late?"

He shuffled uncomfortably and refused to meet her gaze. "I was preoccupied and lost track of time," he stated simply.

Sabina narrowed her eyes. "Oh? The only thing that can distract you sufficiently is a significant scientific breakthrough – was it for an addendum on your report?" she queried.

"Nothing like that." Phillip tried to distract her by flipping open his leather portfolio, and rustling the paperwork.

Seeing through the transparency of this ruse, she leant forward and slapped her palm facedown on the report he had been in the process of lifting up.

Phillip jolted, startled. He stared down at her hand, contemplating its appearance. He exhaled slowly, before relinquishing the real reason for his tardy arrival. "I strolled by the Leaky Cauldron on the route here. I had some time…"

Sabina interrupted. "You deliberately compromised this mission, didn't you?" she grilled him, her voice raising at least an octave. "You bloody idiot!" she exclaimed brusquely. "I hope you savoured that drink," she spat, presuming that he'd stopped by merely to quench his thirst.

"Drink?" Phillip stuttered.

Sabina glared at him intensely. "Merlin – don't tell me you went further than the pub…" She paused as she saw his visage flush with guilt. She cradled her forehead between thumb and fingers as she cursed.

"You had better hope that no one recognized you, Phillip – or it will be more than our jobs on the line," she fumed.

Stricken, he muttered apologetically. "I only went into a place called 'Ivan's InnerWeb Teahouse'"

"Couldn't help yourself I bet," Sabina seethed - her words brittle. "Too inquisitive for your own good - you probably stuck out like a wart on a hag's face."

Phillip scowled. "Why did you never tell me that the Wizarding World had adopted these technologies?" he quizzed, dismayed.

"It is not your business to know," she snapped. "The only thing you need to concern yourself with is ensuring that the information on these Muggle technologies is accurate."

Their heated conversation fell into silence for several minutes as each contemplated everything discussed. Phillip interjected to offer his report as an olive branch. Sabina seized it from him with a hiss. "To remind you of the operational constraints, just in case you are _senile_…" She threw the barbed word at him, and unlike her jest previously, it stung. "Contact with the Wizarding World is strictly forbidden in any circumstances, Phillip. Breach this imperative again, and I will report you to the Section Chief." As she spoke the last, she turned on her heel and marched haughtily from his presence.

* * *

November 18th, 2054

Life Association of Magical Purity Headquarters

Londonderry, Ireland

Sabina breezed into the turreted building, nodding politely at the witch staffing the reception, a black dragon-hide satchel clasped discreetly against her side. Entering the elevator, she keyed her password into the security wards, and the cage rose silently to the administrative floor.

Stepping out of the elevator, she stopped at a mandatory checkpoint. It was standard procedure for all authorised personnel to have their identity verified before proceeding further, irrespective of who they were. Even the Founder, when he his delicate constitution allowed it, was required to pause at this location.

"Wand, any WTGs, or other magical objects in the tray provided," the wizard completing the day's checks, intoned.

Sabina surrendered her wand, followed by her Muggle communicator, a Weasley's Theurgical Gadgets(WTG) PAF32, and her personal secrecy sensor. The wizard logged the devices. "Name and L.A.M.P. member number?" he asked.

"Sabina Black, AD166589," she replied, as the wizard checked her wand against her records.

He indicated that she stand in an alcove; one she knew contained everything from Probity Probes to Muggle-adapted electronics detectors.

"Cleared," he stated, and ushered her out of the recess, and through the checkpoint. The tray of devices was also slid through to the other side, and he handed her wand back to her.

Sabina left the checkpoint and proceeded through a series of hallways and doors until she reached a similar checkpoint. Her face hard, she offered her arm through an opening in the front. No one knew exactly who were employed in this secretive 

security centre, nonetheless, everyone complied with their direction. This was the very last point she had to pass before she reached the heart of L.A.M.P. –the enigmatic staff of Operations.

A sting to her wrist indicated that the test had commenced – blood from an artery would be used to verify that she had not consumed any potions, chemical substances, or other foreign bodies such as Muggle tracking nanobots. A positive reading would mean a lengthy veritaserum interview and quarantine. Finally, her arm was nudged from the opening, and a heavy warded door clicked open.

Rubbing her healed wrist absently, Sabina entered the domain of the Chief of Operations, Gerhart Dolohov-Avery. Several analysts glanced up at her as she strode purposely toward his office, though many remained occupied with their various assignments. The door swung open just before she arrived – it was not often that she had to knock or wait. She entered the plush office, murmuring a greeting to the wizard behind the desk, before sinking into her favourite wingback; the dragon-hide portfolio on her lap.

"How is the Muggle-loving blood traitor?" Dolohov-Avery snidely inquired.

Sabina smirked. "The old fool becomes more deluded as each month passes him by. I look forward to the day when I can finally wash my hands of this Muggle business – hearing Mr. Braithewaite harp on about how grand Muggles are really tests the limits of my patience."

Dolohov-Avery nodded sympathetically. "Anything of interest to us in the report?" he queried.

Sabina opened the portfolio gracefully. "Another Special Report, this time regarding the Intelligence Singularity that he has referenced in previous monthly reports over the last year. From what I have skimmed, it appears to be an in-depth analysis of their current capabilities."

Dolohov-Avery scowled with consternation. "Explain," he demanded.

"If you just read the report…" Sabina stated, but he cut her off abruptly.

"Your job is to read the report and give me a summary," he snapped. "I have no desire to fill my mind with that garbage. All I require from you are the specifics." He folded his arms and glared at her arrogantly. "A simple explanation would be best – I would prefer you leave out the onerous phrases and verbosity that _wizard_ peppers his reports with."

Sabina flushed with indignation. "I will try my best, Sir."

Dolohov-Avery signalled that she should continue; raising an eyebrow delicately and gesturing by lifting one palm off his opposing forearm.

Sabina thumbed through the report. "Basically the Muggles have created self-improving artificial intelligence. They applied this in their computing environment, and now have what the fool terms as 'second-generation' intelligence. As a quotient of human intelligence and cognitive process, these 'second-generation' machines are superior in intelligence to humans by a ratio of two to one. As such, these machines are replacing humans in employment requiring high-level intelligence such as building intergalactic space shuttles, large engineering feats and control of the financial markets. He also notes that these 'second-generation' machines are self-aware, or conscious."

Dolohov-Avery narrowed his eyes as Sabina dictated the last sentence. "You mean to say they think like humans, and think they are humans?"

Sabina nodded. "Yes, though without the fallibility that Muggles are prone to – in a sense they are perfect. His report also mentions that in the AANZ Federation, these 'second-generation' machines were put charge of their legal systems – 'true impartial thinking' is quoted as the reason. The machines are not able to be bribed or swayed by other humans."

He grimaced. "This is a threat – not just to our own way of life, but to our very existence. The Muggles may just have created to tools they need to uncover the Magical World."

Sabina gasped. "The Department of Mysteries is only going to consider this as another wonderful Muggle technology they can adopt – and not see the true danger."

"My point exactly; it is time we take action ourselves, Sabina. We cannot allow the Ministry to have access to this information. If they were to develop a parallel technology, many of the positions in the Ministry would be re-assigned to these – unnatural – entities. Much of the Association's leverage would be lost if the Ministry were to go through such a massive overhaul of its staff."

"What shall you have me do?" Sabina asked.

"Alter the report – downgrade the threat. Make no mention of these 'second-generation' machines, but rather give the Report a pessimistic tone – that the Muggle's advancement has failed, and they have chosen to abandon any further research."

"As you wish," Sabina replied.

"I need you to be especially careful to ensure that any future reports contain no reference to this," he commanded.

For the next eight years, Sabina received the reports from Phillip – disseminated the information contained to L.A.M.P. – before altering them and lodging them with the Section Chief of K1 in the Department of Mysteries.

Ever since the Intelligence Singularity, second and third generation intelligence assisted Muggles in discovering more and more about the universe. Several physics laws were rewritten, and others uncovered. Muggles found a way to manipulate the sub-dimensional continuum, resulting in their first tentative experiments into instantaneous intergalactic travel.

Muggles had also uncovered a way to live almost indefinitely – just before death; a copy of their consciousness was uploaded to a server, and cells harvested from their body. Upon death, the cells formed the base to generate a clone, which once birthed, and cultivated to the age of five, their consciousness downloaded to it. Sabina found it to be unnatural.

Her altered reports were progressively disparate to the ones she received. In fact, she had fun writing the counterfeit reports and setting her face into the visage of disappointment every time she lodged the report with the Section Chief at the Department of Mysteries. The genuine reports were analysed and archived at Operations in a securely warded room, accessible only by herself and Dolohov-Avery.

Finally, on the 3rd April, 2062, she was summoned to the office of the Section Chief, and handed a missive.

"Operation Griffon is officially decommissioned. You are to notify Unspeakable Braithewaite that he is relieved of his duties – his pension starts today and will be transferred to him once a month through a nominated Gringott's account. You will be re-assigned to Section R1, where your unique knowledge can be best utilised."

Sabina glanced at the communiqué. "Why?"

Her Section Chief glanced at her superciliously. "Due to a marked decline in significant Muggle advancement, this Department no longer feels that it should waste tax-payer's funds investigating an area which has failed to yield a discovery of any importance for some time now."

Sabina trembled inwardly. It was of vital importance to L.A.M.P. that the reports continue. The Section Chief noticed her hesitance. "You are dismissed, Unspeakable Black," he said facetiously as he returned to his own work. "The Section Chief of R1, Walter Charlesworth, is eagerly awaiting your arrival. I would suggest not disappointing him with your tardiness. I would hate to mar your perfect service record with such a mark."

Sabina turned and bustled from his office huffily, her mind whirling from the implications of the announcement. She would carry on as if unaffected and report to her new assignment, but it was imperative that she speak with Gerhart Dolohov-Avery as soon as she left the Ministry later in the day.

Evening of April 4th, 2062

Residence of Delphinus and Sabina Black

After Sabina's notification the day before, Gerhart Dolohov-Avery had reassured her that they could continue, and he was to come to her and her husband's estate in Lancashire to discuss their options. Just after nine that evening, one of the house-elves ushered Dolohov-Avery into the study where she and her husband waited.

Sabina rose. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice."

Dolohov-Avery inclined his head in acceptance. "That is quite alright – I have a vested interest in having your work continue, Sabina. To have you cease purely on the Ministry's instructions would jeopardise many things we have worked towards."

Delphinus indicated that the other wizard should take a seat. As he sat, so did Sabina. "If my wife is discovered in this unauthorized venture, the Ministry may treat her harshly," Delphinus noted.

"For the last eight years your wife has been falsifying the reports, this is little different. In fact, I believe this presents a lesser risk of discovery," Dolohov-Avery responded unflinchingly. "As for her contact, she has been requested to arrange his 

pension payments. To ensure that he does not become suspicious, Sabina should inform him that the Ministry will now pay him by the month."

"How long can we sustain this, Sir?" Sabina asked. "He is now in his nineties, and will become suspicious that the Ministry has either forgotten about him or intends for him to remain in the Muggle World for the rest of his life."

"You are to notify him later in the year that the Ministry means for you to replace him within…say…five years. I am of the understanding that due to Muggle security measures he would need some time to establish your identity. That alone would buy us at least a few more years of reports," he responded.

"Now that the Ministry has no input into what her contact should focus on, can we use this to our advantage?" Delphinus interjected.

"Of course," Dolohov-Avery replied, the words rolling slickly from his tongue. "Muggle offensive and defensive technologies are what I am most concerned about, especially any capabilities that may give them superior advantage over us."

"Mr. Braithewaite can be easily convinced. An appropriately falsified document from the Ministry is all will be needed for him to accept this new tangent," Sabina added. "He has wanted to investigate 'military' technologies for some time, and has felt that the Ministry has previously restricted his own research."

"Excellent," he murmured, pleased with her constructive contribution. "You should maintain the same schedule to retrieve the reports, it would be best to preserve at least some normality, to allay any suspicions he may have."

Sabina concurred. "As long as he suspects nothing, he will be easy to handle."

Delphinus frowned. "What happens if he does become apprehensive?"

Dolohov-Avery considered the question briefly. "He can be disposed of, I'm sure no one within our world would miss him," he replied icily.

Delphinus scowl deepened. "You talk as if life means nothing, Gerhart."

"He is merely a tool, with which we can accomplish what we desire; _his_ life does mean nothing." This time coldness radiated from his glare to match his tone.

* * *

October 29th, 2062

Residence of Phillip Braithewaite.

Phillip stirred the milk into Sabina's tea with five precise clockwise movements. He had a Domestic Robot, but some things tasted better when he made them himself. He set the teaspoon down on the countertop, before picking up both beverages and transferring them to a century-old tea service with a small plate of biscuits. He shuffled into the sitting room; the tray balanced perfectly, and lowered it to a small side table.

At nearly forty, in his opinion, Sabina had grown into an impressive witch. Only his understanding surpassed her grasp of the varying concepts presented throughout the years. For the last six months, what had begun as a one-off, had become a firm tradition. Instead of meeting in parks, Phillip had suggested that he teach her the subdued elegance of high tea.

He had been pleased when, earlier in the year, she had handed him another directive from the Ministry detailing a specialist focus for his research. For years, he had argued that the Department of Mysteries should examine Muggle military technologies closely, and it would appear that someone had taken note of his recommendations.

Today, Sabina had greeted him with a wry grin and a whisper that she had exciting news. Eager to learn what this was, Phillip had peppered her with questions until she had refused to answer them until she had her 'tea'. Phillip watched as she raised her cup to her lips and sipped daintily.

"Perfect." She smiled after lowering the cup and returning it to its place on the modest side table.

Phillip grinned. "What is this wonderful news you have for me?"

"You won't leave me be until I tell you, will you?" She reached for a biscuit. "The Ministry has decided that I shall replace you by 2070 at the latest." She delivered the fallacy with all the emotion of the truth.

Phillip heart leaped – he would finally go home. He jumped up and kissed her on the cheek, surprising her. "Fabulous," he whispered enthusiastically. "Bloody brilliant!"

"Don't thank me yet. It could take a while – and I'll need you to assist me with setting everything up."

It sunk in to Phillip what she was trying to say. "I see. You will also need the appropriate identification and documentation to live in this world, which will take time to organise – it will not be as easy for you as it was for me, especially not with the changes the Government has made to the EU Citizen Card. You'll also need a place of residence and finances."

Sabina nodded. "How long do you think it will take?"

"At least a couple of years – I have to track down the exact batch of biometric nanobots to match your age group. Additionally, I will need time to get around the security algorithms used on the card itself…" He trailed off as he realised the sheer complexity of what he needed to accomplish.

"Long-term project?" Sabina queried.

Phillip grunted. "I get to go home, but I have to wait until I can get you prepared. I am beginning to think this is some colossal joke."

* * *

**A/N:**Thanks again to my beta. Many thanks to any readers who _**did**_ review for the previous chapters.

If you haven't reviewed yet, now is a good time to start…


	5. Actions and Reactions

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter… wish I did – an extra million or two would sure come in handy sometimes…**

* * *

March12th, 2063

Malfoy Estate, Wiltshire

The crowd moved about the ballroom restlessly, awaiting the imminent announcement that their host was about to speak. Many witches and wizards attended; most notable was a large contingent of press members from _The Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly_, as well as representatives from a variety of other newspapers and magazines across Europe.

Famous witches and wizards moved through the sea of commoners - each with their own entourage. Frederick Weasley and his son Fabian – founders of the highly successful WTG Enterprise – actively networked with individuals throughout the room, pressing flesh and demonstrating some of their latest Theurgical Gadgets.

Heir of the Zabini fortune, Jeremy Artemis Zabini, sauntered proudly around the room with his freshly minted wife, Calyse. Dressed impeccably, the couple drew stares from all quarters; jealous scowls from the witches, and winks from the older wizards. Having married only three months prior both bore the unmistakable glow of a couple in love.

Across the room from the golden pair, were the four Flumes – Hermann and his son Ashley – and – Derrick and his son Paul. All formed the powerbase of the Flume Group; a multinational company that not only ran the successful Honeydukes franchises, but also a variety of other Wizarding retail chains. Inheriting the original Honeydukes at Hogsmeade upon their parent's death, Hermann and Derrick expanded the brand name.

At the current point in time, over forty Honeydukes' were located in nearly every magical shopping location throughout Europe. Two years ago, they announced a grand goal of opening Honeydukes stores outside of the European Union. Their first American store at been opened in Salem just in time for Yule at the end of last year.

Within the crowd were a mix of Malfoys, Potters and the Bletchleys – all three families closely affiliated by marriage. Other faces were mostly Life Association of Magical Purity members – in attendance to hear the important public announcement of the Founder, Draco Malfoy.

Lurking along one sidewall, two members of L.A.M.P. exchanged greetings and theories on the nature of the announcement.

Sabina Black, now the personal assistant to the Director of Operations, and the Director himself, Gerhart Dolohov-Avery, conversed in varying tones. Currently, Sabina was expounding on a point of speculation in an urgent murmur.

"…He's feeble-minded, Gerhart. The wizard should have stepped down from his position after the Accident. There's been rumours in the office that he plans to change the charter – make it more liberal."

"Nonsense," Dolohov-Avery scowled. "He needs a full Board quorum to pass any changes, and at least three months notice beforehand. For Merlin's sake, he instituted these regulations himself when he started L.A.M.P."

Sabina waved her hand dramatically at the mingling crowd. "What do you think this is about then?"

"I do not know, Sabina. I am worried however, that he invited those vultures." He quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head in the direction of the press corps. "For Malfoy, that means he has something of significance to announce. I do hope that it will be that he is retiring immediately, and is using this occasion to promote his successor."

Sabina smirked. "If that is the case, you do realise that it probably won't be you…" She knew that he had fairly far-reaching ambitions.

Dolohov-Avery's lips thinned in contempt. "Nott has it in the bag – he cemented that by allowing his daughter to marry Malfoy's dim-witted grandson," he spat.

"You could always instigate a no-confidence vote within the board – Nott only has his son-in-law with him on the Board. You would have my husband's vote, as well as my uncle's – and Burke can be bought."

Dolohov-Avery smiled slightly, giving her comment some consideration. "I presume that if the quorum were to hang and a wider vote taken, you would find a way to secure my victory?"

Sabina laughed. "You know as well as I that apart from you, I hold most of the power within Operations."

"And that wouldn't just be 'bargaining' power, would it?" he replied wryly, referring to her rather extensive collection of confidential data which she kept on the vast majority of the staff at L.A.M.P. He had discovered what she termed as her 'insurance' six months ago, when he was going through old reports in the secure storage vault that only he and Sabina had access to.

"Most of that is to insure my own position within the Association. If the situation arises with a general vote, I may be willing to sacrifice a few to ensure your success." She looked at him intently, "At a mutually beneficial price, of course."

Dolohov-Avery regarded her quizzically. "What would that be?"

"My own place on the Board," she responded, as she had aspirations of her own.

"And who would you be replacing?" Dolohov-Avery recognised her voracity of determination.

"Abraxas Malfoy. Once his grandfather is gone, and his father-in-law usurped, he is one challenger you must remove from the Board. This Association belongs to those like us, and not the Malfoys. The sooner they realise that they can't control the Association, the better it is for us," she finished impassionedly.

Dolohov-Avery nodded. Before he could answer, an unnatural silence fell over the hall, and he and Sabina refocused their gaze on the stage at the front of the hall.

Levitated on a decadent chair, Draco Malfoy hovered to the centre of the podium, his wife Astoria standing regally at his side. The ten years since his perilous fall had not been kind to the Founder of the Life Association of Magical Purity. At eighty-three, he was wane and frail; his inanimate legs atrophied and stick-thin beneath rich fabric. Two nervous hands quivered in his lap, the twitching of his fingers more apt on a gunslinger awaiting the best moment to draw and fire, than a weak-bodied wizard.

When the audience removed their gaze from the ruin of the man, and focused instead on his face, they saw determination and a will to succeed. Though slightly rheumy, his steel grey gaze pierced all who dared to meet their eyes with his. The cold fire still burned as he raised his wand to his throat and hoarsely croaked; "Sonorous."

He cleared his throat, and the sound carried throughout the hall. He nodded slightly at Astoria, who reached down and squeezed his left hand, just once, before departing from the podium. Draco peered down at his anxious audience, and began.

"Good evening, friends and members. I have invited you all here tonight to bear witness to the dawning of a new era in the life of this Association."

The press members directly in front of the stage shuffled excitably. Sabina glanced out the corner of her eye at Dolohov-Avery; his mouth was set in an ever-thinning line.

"When I first founded the Association, I set out the charter to primarily benefit Pureblood Wizarding families – to support them through the difficult times that the fall of Voldemort havocked on our reputations and livelihoods."

The mention of the Dark Wizard's name still elicited gasps from various members, primarily from those who had lived through that time. To the right of the podium, Harry Potter closed his eyes briefly, before catching Draco's eye and giving him an encouraging smile.

"Throughout the years, I have come to understand that what is most important – what is most vital – is not blood purity, but magical purity. One of the aims of the Association has been to encourage 'new blood' be assimilated by the old Pureblood families to strengthen the magic. My dear friends – this policy has succeeded! Our children are magically stronger; the incidence of squibs is the lowest it has been for centuries."

Many within the crowd clapped enthusiastically, others tapped their hands together two or three times politely; falsely cheery smiles plastered across their faces. Sabina and Dolohov-Avery were two of the latter group, Dolohov-Avery barely containing his irritation. "I do hope he is not going to broach a subject that is best left alone," he growled, his face now set in a scowl.

Sabina steadied herself against the wall as the implications of what Dolohov-Avery hinted at, set in. "He's going to encourage…" Her words were drowned out by Draco's continued speech.

"My friends and members, I propose that the Association evolve – just as our rapidly changing world adapts and changes – to grow and restructure according to what our World demands of us. Why should we wait for a particularly strong Muggleborn witch or wizard to pass their magic on to their children and grandchildren, before we allow them entry into our organisation? These special witches and wizards should be introduced to the older families to ensure healthy and strong offspring the next generation."

"No!" That one word from Dolohov-Avery was enough to send chills through Sabina's heart, to join her own trepidation at Draco's announcement.

"Mudbloods!" he spat. "He wants us to breed with filthy Mudblood bitches and bastards to 'strengthen our magic' – it's unthinkable!" Dolohov-Avery took two determined steps forward before Sabina snagged his arm. He glared at her, and shook her hand off.

"Sir?" she queried, concerned that her superior would storm the stage and throttle Malfoy. She would not have minded, she wryly thought, but the murder would be witnessed by far too many people, as well as smeared across the _Daily Prophet _the next day.

They were not the only ones inflamed – a few scattered throughout the crowd murmured similar mutinous sentiments. As murmurs turned to a rumble, Harry Potter himself stepped to the stage, and a great roaring "Silence!" reverberated throughout the large room.

In a voice that his descendants knew well and feared, Harry declared, "Have you people no respect? This wizard has lived and experienced more things than most of you." A wave of utter quiet followed Harry's voice as he stood by the wizard that had once been in the presence of the Dark Lord, and done his bidding. Draco raised a trembling hand in a gesture of thanks – he and Harry had long ago set aside their teenage rivalry.

Sabina frowned as Harry smiled at Draco then drifted from the podium. In the last ten years, the two CEO's had spent far too much time in each other's company, and Harry's influence had led to a decline in Association member's seeking admittance to the higher echelons on L.A.M.P., partially due to Draco's insistence that the rules concerning dual membership be changed. The one or two that had made it through, in the early days - retaining their membership with the Order - had been summarily victimized by those who had not. Sabina had played a role in many of these 'unfortunate' resignations.

Draco continued. "I have, for the previous eight years, been making small, but incremental changes to the core functionality of the Association. For instance, allowing those with Muggleborn parents into the organisation…"

Sabina smirked. That was another area that she and Dolohov-Avery had worked on behind the scenes to repress – with varying success. The happiness the victories evoked dissolved as the very last of Malfoy's words struck home.

"…or those especially gifted Muggleborn students at Hogwarts." Sabina raised an eyebrow – she had not been aware of that. She would have to have a word with her Uncle.

"Additionally, I plan to restructure the Association to reflect these changes, as well as to remove certain factions within the organisation that have been operating on another agenda."

Faint whispers that broke out in the crowd hid, for the most part, the hiss that escaped Dolohov-Avery's mouth. Sabina wrung her hands nervously as Malfoy seemed to look right at her and the Operations Department head.

"In the next few months I will dismantle an elitist section, within the administration itself, of individuals who have consistently shown tendencies towards both dangerous thinking and rash action. There is no place in this Association for individuals who crave power more than they desire to implement the enrichment of our magic."

As Malfoy's pronouncement washed over her, Sabina felt heat rise on her face. Individuals turned in the direction Malfoy glared, curiously seeking out the offenders. Next to her, Dolohov-Avery visibly seethed.

Draco let his gaze linger on different parts of the audience before he continued, and finally concluded his speech. "I will not see another Dark Wizard rise in my life time." Draco brought a hand to his face and brushed something from his eye. When he spoke again, his voice was wrought with emotion. "My friends, my fellow members – I saw firsthand what striving for that power does. I experienced…"

Sabina watched with fascination as Draco paused to tremulously roll up the sleeve covering his left arm, revealing a reddened pattern that she had seen only once before. He thrust the arm out, holding onto his left wrist with his right hand. A gasp rippled through the crowd, and many of the younger ones craned their heads forward for a closer inspection.

"I experienced sheer terror – and, even then, I was not one of those that opposed. My father died still believing that this sort of power was to be encouraged, that blood purity was something worth fighting for; that it was worth the torture, the murder, the lying and deceiving, your friends and family." His voice grew angrier at each spoken word. Punctuating the last, he ripped down the sleeve. "No! I will not have this Association perpetuate any of those things."

Silence; for minutes the whole room just froze. The younger ones kept their eyes fixed in awe either on Draco, who wept openly, or Harry, who had rejoined Draco with a comforting hand on his shoulder. The older ones – those whose hearts beat faster and their own eyes glistened – had their heads bowed as they remembered; not just the fallen but also the ones who survived scarred and changed.

The bubble of silence popped and dissipated, as, with a gust of air, the room suddenly erupted in a cacophony of sound. Sabina turned to find Dolohov-Avery regarding the podium with ill-concealed hate. As he glanced at her, she noted that his eyes glinted malevolently. "Sir?"

Dolohov-Avery snapped his body away from the stage, his robe still twisting about his legs as he addressed her. "He was referring to me – he's going to have **me** removed from the Board – followed by yourself and the remainder of my staff that are loyal to our cause." He grabbed her arm and steered her away from the throng of people and out into a deserted hallway.

"What do we do now?" she queried, concerned, for not only her job, but also their mission.

"The only option we have left," he replied.

* * *

May 2nd, 2063

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire

Astoria Malfoy, having just tucked her husband in, retired to the library with her customary cup of tea, biscuit and book. Halfway through her refreshments, the Malfoy house-elf Gilly, entered the room flustered.

"Mistress Astoria, there's a wizard at the door – he won't…" The house-elf's lip quivered. "…He won't leave. You told Gilly never to admit another wizard after Master Malfoy had retired…"

Unruffled by the house-elf's own lack of composure, Astoria gently set her teacup down, and then rose gracefully. "Dismissed, Gilly – I shall see to this matter myself," she replied haughtily.

The house-elf bowed and scampered from the room. Adjusting her clothes, Astoria sauntered through the Manor to the entrance hall. Silhouetted against the windows stood an imposing figure, and Astoria swung the door open to find her suspicions realised.

"You are not welcome here," she hissed coldly, her right hand still on the door. "I request that you leave the grounds immediately…"

The wizard stepped into what little doorway she had exposed. He leant a palm against the door and nudged the solid wood, causing Astoria to take a step back. "I am not departing until I speak to your husband," he growled in return.

Only the hand hidden behind the door belied her nervousness. Astoria squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and spoke firmly. "Leave."

The wizard shoved the door abruptly, catching Astoria in the shoulder. She gasped and stumbled back, her left hand rising to rub the spot where the door had collided with her skin.

"I have something to discuss with Draco," he obstinately replied as he stalked past her.

Astoria whipped around and hurried after him. She grasped a handful of his outer garment and yanked. "Please – he's in bed, asleep, he's not well," she implored him.

The wizard merely shrugged his coat off, leaving it to dangle from her hand. "So kind of you to offer to take my coat, Mrs. Malfoy," he snidely responded as he strode away from her.

Astoria's heart palpitated wildly as she shook with indignation. She threw the decadent brocade coat to the floor, disgusted. Leaning against a side table, she fought to compose herself. "Gilly," she whispered hoarsely, and the house-elf appeared, wringing its hands.

"Yes, Mistress Astoria?"

"Please take that," she pointed at the fabric that lay coiled on the tiles. "And hang it in the coatroom."

The house-elf bowed, and departed with the offending article.

A few minutes later, after collecting her thoughts and courage, Astoria determinedly ascended the stairs in the wizard's wake. At the landing, she turned right, and marched down the hall towards her husband's bedchamber. She pulled up short at the sound of a fervent argument.

"…this course of action shouldn't be taken."

"Oh, Draco – the change of heart has made you righteous and beyond reproof has it?"

"It took me nearly sixty years to admit that my ideologies were at fault…"

Astoria crept to the door, peering through a gap where the door had failed to close properly. Her view of Draco was imposed upon by the back of the wizard who towered over her husband's frail form. She barely concealed a whimper when she noticed Draco's wand lying on the floor some distance from the bed.

The wizard whipped around; evidently, she had not muffled her exclamation enough. She flittered away from the door, slinking down the hallway. She heard the door open briefly, before it closed solidly, and then a muttered charm. She recognised it as the _muffliato_, and her heart sank in despair. She glided back to the door, and, touching the handle, went to open it. She snapped her hand back in shock – the door was clearly warded against her, her hand reddening where it had contacted the metal.

Clutching her hand to her chest, Astoria's consternation grew. Draco had been disarmed, and her own right to entry barred. She knew the visitor felt offended by her husband's plans to restructure the Association, but Draco had hoped that he would listen to reason.

The wizard's actions tonight betrayed that he was not one to admit defeat. Fearing the outcome, she slid down the wall, coming to rest on her heels. Her hand throbbing and her breath shallow, she waited.

Some time later, the door to the room wrenched open, and the wizard exited. Astoria glanced up at his face. As their eyes met, he reached out and jerked her to her feet. He pinned her to the wall by her throat.

"I was never here, do you understand?"

Astoria moaned. "What?"

He shook her, slamming her head back, his hand tight around her throat. "Do you understand?" he asked, the question repeated slowly and deliberately.

Eyes wide with fear, Astoria clawed at his wrist, only to have him strengthen his hold.

"Answer me, witch, or I'll send you to join your husband," he snarled.

Astoria attempted to swivel her head toward the open door, the import of his statement ringing in her ears. "Draco? What have you done? What have you…?" Her words cut off as he forced her up the wall. She gasped for air as her feet left the ground.

He leant in close enough for her to smell his breath. Almost nose to nose, he sneered, "Do you understand?"

Fearing for her life, Astoria jerked her head forward, twice. Satisfied, the wizard dropped her to the ground, where she whimpered and curled her knees to her chest. He crouched beside her, his wand out and pointed at her heart.

"Lack of understanding could mean your life, Mrs. Malfoy," he purred, his tone pouring goose bumps down her spine.

She gazed at him imploringly. "You were not here. You did not kill my husband," she responded flatly.

"Of course not – your husband died in his sleep. Very sad," he murmured sarcastically, as he regarded her unemotionally. "See that you remember that, Mrs. Malfoy."

Astoria watched as he rose from her, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She rolled onto her stomach and sobbed into the carpet hallway runner, missing his eventual departure.

* * *

May 3rd, 2063

Londonderry, Ireland.

Gerhart Dolohov-Avery smoothed the _Evening Prophet_ out on the desk in front of him, grinning wickedly as he relished the most satisfying headline.

"_**DRACO MALFOY DEAD;**_

_**Founder of L.A.M.P. dies at home after lengthy illness."**_

As he pushed the paper to one side, the light in the room caught the ring on his right hand. With the fingers of his left hand, he toyed with the signet ring, running the pad of his index finger over the delicate engraving; an old oil lamp set with amber that glowed in the candlelight.

The ring was his - the rich gold never cooling as he transferred it from its original owner's hand to his own. Soon, he would ensure that everything that belonged to the ring would belong to him also.

* * *

October 13th, 2063

The Muggle World.

_**The Herald Tribune**_

_**October 13**__**th**__**, 2063**_

**European Union announces new defence contractor.**

_By Special Correspondent Emily Harrison_

_The historical announcement three years ago that the European Union had approved changes that allowed joint defence projects to be undertaken for the benefit of all member countries, reached a dramatic turning point yesterday. The European Union Joint Defence Counsel (EUJDC) announced, by a voting margin of 53, that the Defence Contractor giant Praxis Corporation, would lead all current and new defence research and application. _

_Praxis Corporation was founded in 2008. The Corporation tendered for and won a United States military contract in 2012, delivering technological advances such as the first real-world applications of nanotechnology. Their twelve-year contract with the US came to an early end when budgeting constraints, after the stock market fall of 2021, tightened the hip pocket of many countries around the world._

_For the past forty years, Praxis Corporation has been one of the leading science and technology groups in the Western world. They were one of the three companies behind the immergence of the Intelligence Singularity, and their current main research fields include Quantum and Cosmic String development and application, Energy Waveform Frequency detection and manipulation, as well as Genetic Modification. It is a well-publicised fact that Praxis Corporation use their very own third-generation Higher Intelligence Machines (HIM), which are capable of projecting a holographic array of their awareness that interacts with its fellow researchers._

* * *

December 1st, 2063

Undisclosed Location, Argyll Forest, Scotland.

Field Research Site #21, Praxis Corporation.

Inside a warmed biosphere, Muggle scientists scurried back and forth between a large bank of holographic displays and quantum interfaces lining an entire wall, and various workstations arranged around a central hub. Praxis Corporation's Research and Development Section Head, Juliette Walker, rallied a variety of technicians. She gave a sidelong glance at a wiry man in his forties.

"Johnson, what's the status with the sensors?" she shot at him.

Garth Johnson, lead researcher in the field of energy waveform frequencies, barely glanced from his display, nor did his polymer-coated hands stop their incessant movement. "Infrared, ultraviolet and spectrometer are online." He swished one hand, and the holographic interface in front of him changed. "Just completing the matrix for the temporal array – correlating coordinates now," he replied.

Juliette nodded imperceptibly. She turned to an assistant. "Do we have confirmation that this site will yield another irregularity?"

The young woman stopped, and, with her own gloved hands, called up a glimmering white sheet of light containing data. "We have logged at least two quantum events in the immediate area within the past three hours, the resulting probability wave suggested that the next event would occur within the hour."

Juliette waved a hand in dismissal. She strode to where another scientist sat, surrounded by machines. "Bellamy – have you established the absolute fifth dimensional coordinates?"

Lyle Bellamy, quantum theorist, nodded as he checked an interface. "Quantum harmonics indicate that the initial quantum distortion episode, recorded three hours ago, originated from within Earth's own space-time continuum."

Juliette swore – a quantum rip within Earth's own space-time continuum could mean only one thing, and her superiors would not be happy to hear that evidently another person or persons unknown had bettered them at their research. She turned her attention to the project's HIM, who preferred to be referred to as 'Samuel'.

"Samuel, did you get an ID?"

The solid holographic representation in front of her shook its 'head'. "No – I ran the biometrics through my database, and no match was returned. The target also had no discernable nanotechnology – considering the target's age, the probability of that occurring is at the factor of…"

Juliette held a hand up. "So we have someone from either AANZ Federation or the Indo-China Alliance…"

'Samuel' interrupted. "No – the target also spoke. Using my linguistics module, I determined that the inflection and cadence of the voice indicated that the target has a 98.76 probability of originating from within the British Isles. More specifically, the dialect indicated that the target was born and lived for at least twenty years in or around the region of Cumbria."

Juliette peered at 'Samuel'. "How about the second instance of temporal disturbance – were you able to identify the target in that case?"

"The second target also remains unidentified. Like the first target, the second target's biometrics contained no nanotechnology readings. Additionally, both targets had on them unknown devices that repelled further probing. After tracking their movements for some distance, we recorded various distortions, and they disappeared from our sensors."

Juliette glared at the HIM incredulously. "Even with cloaking technology, one does not 'disappear' from our sensors."

"I ran a diagnostics check – all our systems were functional at the time; the only anomaly I registered was a slight peak in quantum energy before each disappearance. Simply put, I believe they disappeared from our reality and reappeared in another."

Juliette mused. "If you are correct, this may be confirmation of the Multiverse Cross-Dimensionality Theorem."

Her statement roused Bellamy's interest. "The layered Universe theory has been batted around for nearly a hundred years, Ms. Walker – and nobody has even come close to even proving it exists."

She huffed superiorly. "A hundred years ago, no one believed quantum travel or subspace cosmic string travel possible either. Besides, this company is the leader in recent significant scientific discoveries." She smirked at him. "Why limit yourself to one Nobel Prize?"

"MCDT dictates that we share some parts of our physical universe with others – a cross-over where occupants of one world co-exist in the same time-space continuum as another. So, why haven't we recorded more of these events over the years?" Bellamy replied.

Garth Johnson had slunk over to join the discussion. "We haven't had the technology until recently," he interjected. "Maybe the occupants of the other dimension are more technologically advanced, and have been careful to keep their movements hidden."

"It is most likely to be the former than the latter," Juliette replied. "This is one of many sites throughout Europe that Praxis Corp has been actively monitoring with the new probability wave detectors, and data from other sites have shown regular instances of anomalies. This is the first site where we have positively identified the source of the fluctuations to have come from within our exact fifth dimension co-ordinates, or time-space continuum."

"So they must cohabit; I did overhear 'Samuel' mention that their biometrics scan showed no evidence of technology from the last fifty years, but are you certain they belong to the same time? Perhaps the probability wave that accompanies their arrival is merely an echo forced back by time travel," Johnson noted.

"Interesting point," Bellamy mused, "though, I am inclined to place my bets on MCDT, due to the recordings of the absolute fifth dimensional coordinates. The quantum harmonics do not veer off the baseline by enough for a phenomenon such as time travel, indicating that the source of the activity is ultra-dimensional and not sub-dimensional. If it were time travel, we would register a different space coordinate as opposed to normalcy while the rip remained open. As we have yet to do so, we can deduce that these individuals are moving through relative space at the same time as us before, during and after their transit, while remaining in the same general physical location."

"So for time travel the fifth dimension coordinate is not the same?" Juliette queried, attempting to clarify the point.

"That's correct," Bellamy responded. "Even though you remain in the same physical space – the third dimension – and time travels with you, your relative position in space – within the universe, changes. For instance, this time yesterday, this particular location occupied a different location in space due to the Earth's orbit around the Sun, and the Sun's movement through space due to the ever-expanding cosmos. To time travel back to yesterday, you would have to know the exact fifth dimensional coordinate, and not just the time and place."

Johnson snorted in amusement. "Otherwise you'd find yourself in the middle of space, without a location. The sub-dimension allows you to enter time as it flows in either direction, but you must know your exact arrival point."

Bellamy continued. "When you arrive at your location, the dimensional rip from your original time stays open momentarily – that's the beauty of using sub-dimensional travel – with your fifth dimensional coordinates. In these cases, we are simply not seeing a different time coordinate to the one we have set for this location."

Juliette consulted the time display. "According to the last probability wave, we should expect a target shortly." She turned to Johnson. "I presume by your absence from your station, that the temporal array is primed and ready?"

"Yes – I came over to run the synchronization with Lyle."

Bellamy moved sensors attached to his fingers in a sequence, and a display of five alphanumeric figures appeared on a holographic display at the front of the room. The first three were currently displaying zeros.

Johnson moved his hands and consulted a sheet of white light. "Probability wave dictates that the event horizon will be located at fifty-six degrees, seven minutes, and zero seconds North…" he read off the first. "…and four degrees, fifty-two minutes, and six seconds West. At an altitude of eight hundred and seventy-two, point seven zero three feet."

Bellamy locked in the coordinates, and they glimmered in the first three positions in the display. Beside him, 'Samuel' brought up the physical location on a large three dimension holographic display in the centre of the room. "Only three miles south of our location – have tasked the spy drones to provide full dimensional feed."

Juliette watched the full colour feed and shivered. "It looks cold out there." The feed reproduced an area seven feet cubed – where snow lay deep on the ground, and a flurry of flakes buzzed through the air.

Bellamy checked the alphanumeric display. "Time and universal position synchronized," he murmured.

The last two figures were incessantly changing. The fourth – time – ticked at the subatomic level. The fifth – the universal position – was a mass of numbers, letters and simple pictorial representations that changed subtly. He opened a new screen, located beside the first. "Feed initialized – sensors will read the inception point as soon as the rip opens."

Johnson returned to his station, Juliette trailing him. He called up a display containing the probability wave, pausing briefly to switch on the voice amplification implant at the front of his throat. "Quantum harmonics exponentially increasing, event horizon in three minutes," Johnson stated, and his voice boomed throughout the sphere.

Research assistants rushed to man the stations, and a large time display blinked into existence above the holographic display, which currently contained the area of snow. The display flashed electric blue numbers, counting down from three minutes.

With six seconds to go, a section of Johnson's display blinked. "Initial displacement wave registered," he intoned.

Two seconds later, Bellamy responded with his own observation. "Occurrence of temporal dissonance located within target area."

All eyes turned to the three-dimension display. As the countdown hit zero, a woman literally popped into existence. At the same time, a multitude of feeds and output devices went into overdrive.

"Inception point obtained, originating fifth dimensional coordinates recorded," Bellamy yelled over the increasing excitable chatter.

Juliette rushed over. "Where did she originate from?"

'Samuel' called up a satellite display. "Inception point was five seconds ago, within the Earth's universal position, at the location of fifty-three degrees, twenty-two minutes, and ten seconds North, and, one degree, twenty-nine minutes, and seventeen seconds West, altitude of sixteen feet." A point on the satellite map converged, coalesced and focused in on a clearly wooded area. "Sheffield, England," Samuel finished.

By this stage, a group of assistants had gathered around the three-dimensional display, and were rapidly gathering data.

"She's on the move," one of them shouted.

'Samuel' made adjustments. "The imaging drones are in pursuit."

The assistants moved around the representation, some taking instantaneous captures of aspects of her body, face, clothing and other things.

One of them shouted abruptly. "She dropped something!" He pointed at an object in the snow. He captured the moment and the device on a light tablet and ran it to Juliette. "We should retrieve the artefact."

She held a finger up. "We wait."

Seven minutes after the woman arrived, she strode into an area that caused displays to flicker.

Bellamy glanced at his display, puzzled. "The same dimensional ripple as the other two targets – we're going to lose her."

Juliette marched over. "Someone can't just disappear into thin air. She has clearly not entered another rip, so she has to be still _here_."

Across the room, Johnson shook his head. "I've lost her from all the sensors – even infrared is not picking anything up." He glanced at a display. "The only reading I received was a slight irregularity in the quantum harmonics as she shifted." He retrieved results from the previous two 'targets'. He frowned, "Interesting."

Juliette snapped her head in his direction. "Nothing is ever just 'interesting' to you, Johnson."

He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. "The same irregularity occurred in the last two events. The deviation is slight – maybe they're using a cloaking frequency," he pondered.

"Perhaps," she replied, disappointed that they had managed to lose another target. She called over the assistant who had brought her attention to the dropped object. "Retrieve the artefact – maybe we can get some answers."

The assistant smiled and hurried off. The others watched on the displays as the assistant, dressed in thermo-matrix polymer, crunched his way through the snow. As he approached, a sensor beeped on Johnson's display. He gasped as the same dimensional shift registered. Without notifying Juliette, he screamed. "Abort! Get him away from the area!"

Juliette glanced up to see the woman reappear. She tapped her communication implant once. "Hollander – evasive measures - target has returned and is in your vicinity."

The scientists in the room held their breath as their colleague dropped behind a tree, and engaged the camouflage component of the polymer. He melted into his surroundings as the woman came into view, clearly searching the ground.

"Bloody hell!" Juliette exclaimed, thumping her hand on a nearby table. "I really wanted proof." She watched, annoyed, as the woman finally located her dropped object. Muttering to herself, she turned to 'Samuel'. "Apart from imaging, are those drones equipped with anything else?"

'Samuel' searched the blue prints. "Drone two and three are also equipped with nano-tranquilizers, each micro-dart contains neural blocker N-678."

Juliette considered the information and came to a decision. "Enough to render her unconscious?" she queried.

"Four micro-darts should be sufficient," 'Samuel' replied. "Shall I task them to fire?"

Juliette nodded in confirmation, and 'Samuel' interfaced with the drones through his neural network. The researchers watched as the three-dimensional representation of the woman jiggled a few times, slapping parts of her body. Seconds later, she dropped to the ground. Juliette pointed at two more assistants. "You, and you - help Hollander with the retrieval."

They accepted her orders eagerly and then left her presence. A few minutes later, the three assistants carried in the unknown woman on a stretcher. Juliette eyed the device that the woman had in her hand. She wriggled it from her clutch and held the trophy up to the light. Most of the assistants gathered around, staring at the strange device.

"Any idea what it could be?" an assistant enquired, interested.

"No, but we are going to find out." Juliette handed the item to Johnson. "Run every diagnostic you can think of – I want an approximation of what its function is, preferably within the hour."

Johnson accepted the device, examining the outward appearance first. Juliette watched as he rolled it over in his hands. "Almost looks like one of the personal music players from fifty years ago," he murmured, "but different." He tapped the back of the device. "No apparent battery or power source." He flipped it to the front. "A display screen of sorts - but no on or off switch, nor jacks for listening devices."

Juliette observed as Johnson pried the outer case open and placed the naked device on a scanner. "All known frequencies elicit no reaction in the internal structures," he muttered. "Perhaps Bellamy should examine the device," he offered, the mystery of the device stumping him.

Juliette waved Bellamy over to join them. He too picked the device up. "I presume you desire my expertise?"

"Establish its quantum state – perhaps it operates at a sub-atomic level," Juliette requested.

Bellamy removed the device to his workstation. A battery of tests later, he shouted in surprise. Juliette and Johnson rushed to his side. "You found something?" she queried.

Bellamy grinned. "I sure did. Its quantum state is in perpetual change." He glanced at Johnson. "That's why none of the frequencies you used changed." He turned to Juliette, his eyes sparkling. "And I established that the same harmonics irregularity persists in each state of change. This irregularity matches the wave that Johnson identified at the point of the dimensional shifts."

"Can we apply that as a coefficient, now that we have determined it is a unique signature?" Juliette asked. "Filter out the pre-existing background harmonics for this location and visualize the results?"

Johnson nodded, he understood exactly what Juliette wanted – they used the technique to determine when locations or objects used cloaking frequencies. He moved a gloved hand in a particular sequence. A new light screen popped up, and he peered at it. He sighed. "No – that can't be right."

The image displayed the point where the woman appeared. Everything – from the snow to the trees, was overlaid with glimmering violet light. About to switch the display off to recalculate, Juliette stopped him. She pointed at the spot in the air where the woman had disappeared then reappeared. "There. What is that?"

Johnson focused on the spot. He breathed out in wonderment, as a section of transparent violet appeared to ripple like the surface of a pond. "Shielding – it has to be." He made a few adjustments. "I can amplify the signature," he noted.

Juliette and Bellamy gasped as parts of the violet strengthened. "Clever buggers." Bellamy snorted. "They've harnessed a naturally occurring quantum harmonic, and intensified it in certain areas. If you hadn't have noticed the slight irregularity, Garth, we would have overlooked it entirely." He clapped his fellow researcher on the shoulder.

Johnson's face reddened, and then he clicked his fingers fervently. "The device!" he exclaimed. "Let me scan the device again." He snatched it from Bellamy's workstation, and ran with it to his. Bellamy and Juliette bustled behind him. He focused on the device and visualized an overlay.

The same violet light streamed into the device, coalescing in certain internal structures. Juliette's grin betrayed her amazement. "An energy source?" she quizzed.

"It would appear so," Johnson replied. He glanced suddenly at the unconscious woman. "I wonder…?"

Juliette's eyes followed his gaze. "She would need some form of frequency modulator to focus the energy to use both the device, and enter the shield."

Johnson dashed to the woman's side, and then pushed the wheeled stretcher over to his workstation. With some adjustments, he focused the scanner over her entire body, and initialized a large display.

Work within the biosphere ground to a halt as researchers ceased their own work and stared at the display. Despite his expectations, Johnson gaped at the holographic output. He tapped Juliette. "Humour me – stand next to her."

Juliette acquiesced.

The holographic display teemed with violet light. Like the trees and snow outside, violet light glimmered over Juliette's own body, with concentrations of it at her heart and head. It merely enveloped her in pale translucent colour.

The unconscious woman, however, attracted the vast majority of visualized light. Her body drew vortexes of spiralling violet into her body; the largest concentration an opaque ball encompassing her upper torso. Lost for words, all watched on silently as the light incessantly entered the woman.

Johnson cleared his throat. "It must be an implant of some description – its focal point is _inside_ of her, and…" He pointed to an area of intense light. "She also has an amplifier." He turned his head from the display and back to Juliette. "Ms. Walker – she has a secondary device in her clothing somewhere – left hand side, probably in a pocket."

Juliette searched the woman, finally withdrawing a long thin wooden rod. She placed it beside the woman's body before withdrawing from her, to investigate the display herself. She gasped as she gazed at the visual representation.

The wooden rod connected to the woman with a flickering string of pure violet light. Beads of the light slid up and down the length of the rod, in some places arching off into the surrounding transparency.

She snapped her attention away from the display. She summoned 'Samuel'. "I want a full biometric scan completed." The HIM proceeded to the stretcher to begin scans.

Juliette also gestured at another researcher. "Ms. Davids – I need a full genetic sequence completed before the subject wakes, as well as viable tissue and blood samples for comparison with our databank." Vera Davids murmured her acceptance.

She turned back to Garth Johnson and Lyle Bellamy. "Excellent work – I have a feeling that this breakthrough could be just the tip of the iceberg."

* * *

**A/N:**

Thanks to everyone for reading, and special kudos to those who do review. I extend a special invite to my readers who haven't reviewed yet – please do – it is as easy as clicking on that little button to the left.


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